House Arrest
by AmandaBloodhart
Summary: AU / Vincent X OC: Riley, an urbanite, buys a house in the suburbs and attempts to adjust to the new life, that is until her house is taken over by a group of criminals. Much to her annoyance, she finds herself falling for the most dangerous one, Vincent.
1. CH1 Moving In

**House Arrest**

**Disclaimer:**_ All Final Fantasy VII related characters and ideas are copyright to Square-Enix, and only them. Any other characters are copyright to the author._

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><p><strong>Chapter One – Moving In<strong>

The suburban neighbourhood. Lush with green grass, various flowers and thick trees, as well as extremely nosey neighbours, it wasn't the kind of place a city girl would ever find herself, especially not Riley Willows. It was only a month ago that she had purchased her own house in such a place. She had no idea what made her decide on such a quiet place—no, she did know. It was not something she felt like remembering.

Finally, she drove into the neighbourhood in her old Ford Mustang—a complete rust bucket on wheels—cruising down the small and curvy street before she passed a rickety old house, and then backing up into its driveway. It was a three-floor property (basement included) with a front and back yard. The paint was peeling off and the entire place looked like it was in dire need of a complete makeover, or rather, a do-over. Riley had chosen this place simply because it gave her a huge project to do. Ever since the real estate agent showed it to her, Riley knew the place had tons of potential. A little (a lot of) money and elbow grease, and the place would be good as new, and she could call it home.

Suburbanites in their yards were already looking over at their new neighbour, taking in her rather plain appearance. Her long chocolate brown hair was tied back into a ponytail with layered bangs framing her fair face. She moved her small, round, vibrant orange sunglasses to the top of her head, revealing icy blue eyes. Average height for a twenty-three year old woman, she also appeared as if she had kept in somewhat good shape, maintaining a healthy weight thanks to the fact she spent some time playing a bit of soccer during her youth, among other things. All she wore was a white tank, blue overalls that were stained with paint, a blue jean zip-up jacket, and bright blue All-Star Converse sneakers.

Walking around the car, she reached in to grab a box before going straight for the front door, the floorboards creaking under her weight as she unlocked the door and pushed it open with her hip. The inside had a musty smell she would have to get used to, and the wallpaper was peeling off like the paint outside. Wallpaper is lame anyways, she mused. Boxes were piled on top of each other everywhere, though she didn't have a lot of furniture as she planned to buy new furniture.

She put the box down in the living room, squeaking as she saw a spider skittering across the floor. Her foot instantly stomped it into its inevitable abyss of death. Sighing, she walked into the kitchen that looked like she was visiting her grandmother's house. Shuddering, she went to her fridge and stopped in mid opening that she had no food. Her stomach growled and she huffed. She didn't have the phone line hooked up either. The only option left was to eat out. She would go grocery shopping afterwards.

Keys jingling, she opened her door to find the neighbours on their way. _Crap._ Food was calling for her, and these people would be delaying her much needed sustenance. She was dying for some McDonald's. The first pair looked like a couple of typical housewives, carrying food as 'welcome to the neighbourhood' tributes. The two men following them, Riley could only assume they were the husbands.

The first woman to speak had semi-short, stylishly curled blonde hair and pale green eyes, wearing a short sleeved white shirt and beige dress pants. The woman was sickly thin, her chin too pointed. "Hi there, you must be the new neighbour."

"Yeah, I am," she responded as politely as possible while maintaining a slightly bored expression.

"My name is Debbie Johnson. This is my husband, Carl," she said, pointing to the taller man. He looked like a disapproving individual, with his combed back brown hair and grey eyes, thick moustache, a white button-up dress shirt and grey slacks. Riley could tell he worked out.

"Hi," she said lamely. Did his moustache twitch?

The other woman was a slightly shorter lady, and more rounded, though she looked completely down-to-earth with her long dark brown hair, brown eyes, and a light grey plaid dress with a white shirt underneath. The man standing beside her was possibly just as rounded. He wore a dark blue bowler shirt and dark grey slacks. His hair was thicker than Carl's, a light brown and he had blue eyes.

"Hello there, my name is Ellen Adams, and this is my husband, Paul," she said with a kind smile. Her cookies looked too inviting for Riley's own good.

Paul gave a small but slightly enthusiastic wave as he smiled. "Hey there!"

She almost forgot to introduce herself. "I'm Riley Willows." Done. _Can I eat now?_

"Riley? That's a boy's name," Debbie declared in a way that gave Riley the impression that the woman assumed she considered herself a know-it-all.

"Oh, how rude Debbie!" Ellen said. "I think it's a lovely name."

"Well, it's different for a girl, I suppose."

Riley leaned on the door frame, crossing her arms, keys clutched in her hand. "Believe it or not, but Riley is a unisex name. Not to be rude or anything, but I was about to go out to eat and shop."

"Well, we don't wish to hold you up," Ellen said. "We just wanted to come by, say hello and welcome you to the neighbourhood. Also, if you need anything, just let me know. I made these cookies after I found out somebody bought this place. They're my own recipe of triple-chocolate-fudge."

Riley smiled. She didn't like Debbie, but Ellen was difficult not to like. It was the cookies. "Thanks, I'll definitely eat them up, and I appreciate the welcome."

Paul spoke up, "Maybe you can come by later for dinner! I'm having a barbecue this evening, you can meet the rest of the neighbours!"

"Paul, we can't just give her steak," Ellen exclaimed.

Riley's stomach growled at the mention of the meal. "Actually, I love steak. I'd love to come over later if you'll have me."

"Oh, that's fantastic," said Ellen enthusiastically. "Barbecue starts at six. We'll let you get back to what you were doing. Bye bye!"

Riley smiled, waving to them with her free hand. She liked the Adams' already. She looked at Debbie and Carl who seemed unimpressed that the Adams' were already making friends. "Uh," was all Riley could say.

Debbie snapped out of her small trance and forced a smile. "Well, I also made you something. A salmon casserole. I do hope you enjoy it. We do have to get going though. We will see you at the barbecue."

With that, she and her husband sauntered away to their overly-elegant house. Riley glanced at the fish...thing and grimaced. She hated fish. She didn't even like them as pets. Sighing, she brought the food inside, storing them before resuming her previous task, starting the car and heading straight for the shopping district of town. She found a small diner that had the most mouth-watering looking burgers, stepping through the doors that caused a small bell to ring. Seating herself at the counter, a waitress walked over.

"Hello there, my name is Tiffany, but you may call me Tifa if you like—most people do—is there anything you fancy today?"

"I'm new in town actually, so what's good here?"

The dark brunette with rustic brown eyes thought for a moment. "Well, we have our special today, which consists of tomato soup with milk and a side of caesar salad, as well as a beverage of your choice. Or, you can also pick the classic meal with is a hamburger with cheese, lettuce, tomatoes and onions, with a side of fries and also with a beverage of your choice."

"I'll go with the special. I'm eating light for today."

Tifa nodded, smiling. "Big dinner later?"

"Yeah, I was just invited to a barbecue."

"Oh that's nice. Are you liking the neighbourhood so far?"

"Mm, not bad I guess. I'm from the city, so it'll take some getting used to."

Tifa nodded, giving the order to the chef before coming back. "What would you like to drink?"

"Um, got any root beer?"

"We do. Ice?"

"No thank you."

Tifa walked off, coming back with the glass of root beer, a pink straw sticking out. "Where are you from originally?"

Riley took a sip before answering, "I used to live in New York."

"So what brought you to this town?"

"The silence," she replied.

"Ah, typical city girl needing a different change of pace?"

"Something like that."

"You look like you just got out of college."

"So do you." They both smiled before laughing. "I'm twenty-three."

"I'm the same. Whereabouts do you live now?"

"Uh, in the suburbs, on Mountain Grove Street."

"Oh, I know where that is! You live across from the Johnson's, right?" Riley nodded. "Watch out for Carl, there's a rumour going around that he's cheating on his wife."

"With Debbie's attitude, can you blame him?"

"With barely legal girls."

"Ouch." Tifa nodded. "Well, it's not my problem. It's only a rumour, right?"

"Well, he harassed the florist down the street from here. If Cloud didn't show up, Aerith could have been in trouble."

Riley arched a brow. "Cloud?"

"Well, his real name is Claude, but he didn't like it. He works for the post office here," she explained, getting a wispy look on her face.

It didn't go unnoticed as Riley listened. "This...Cloud. Do you have a crush on him?" Tifa visibly blushed. "Oh ho! So, you're not going out with him, but you _want_ to!"

"Hush, hush! If my dad found out, he'd get so mad!"

"Is he here?" Tifa shook her head. "Then what are you worried about? Don't worry, I'll keep it a secret."

Tifa seemed relieved. "I don't want Cloud to found out yet either. Oh, I never caught your name."

"It's Riley. Is my soup done yet?"

A bell was rung and Tifa smiled. "It is now."

Riley smiled, happy to have food now. Once she was done her meal, she looked at the clock, paid, then waved Tifa goodbye before heading out for the grocery store. It took less than an hour to go crazy with groceries and taking them home, putting them away. After that was dealt with, she went upstairs to her private bathroom. The whole place needed renovations, but she'd need an inspector first before hiring a contractor. Once her bathroom supplies were put away, she checked her clock, realizing it was half an hour till the barbecue. After a quick shower, she found her clean clothes. She put on a pair of blue denim capris and a grey and blue striped hooded sweater that reach halfway down her thighs.

She felt like it seemed weird not to bring anything to the barbecue so she looked through her newly obtained food stash, pursing her lips in thought. Rather than put a lot of thought into it, she grabbed a couple bags of chips and the dip jars from the fridge, placing them in a plastic bag before finally heading over. No answer came when she knocked on the front door. She tried the doorbell next, getting a better result as Ellen came to the door.

"Hi, Riley! So glad you could make it."

"Hey, I didn't have time to make anything, so I hope chips are okay."

"Chips are fantastic! Come in, come in. Everyone's in the backyard already."

Riley followed her, putting the bag on the kitchen counter before going out back. She was shocked to find there were so many people. There wasn't anyone here around her age. It was rather depressing to discover. It was either people in their thirties and older, or kids.

"Would you like a drink, Riley?"

"Uh, sure."

"We got beer, water, um, fruit punch."

"I'll take the punch, thanks."

The evening went by rather slow, and Riley was bored out of her mind. She could have been unpacking right now and looking at interior design magazines she had collected. Eating the steak she had looked forward to in the first place, she was close to saying good night before Debbie sat beside her in the lawn chairs.

"Where are you from, originally?"

"I lived in New York."

"Where are your parents?"

Riley hesitated, refusing to look at the nosey woman. "My dad is currently in Massachusetts. Glouchester, specifically."

"What's he do?"

"He does a little carpentry, and auto-mechanics."

"What about your mother?" Riley didn't answer. "You're a rather strange girl. You don't dress very femininely."

"I'm a tomboy," Riley explained lamely.

"Well, that's no good. You could be very pretty if you put on a bit of makeup, did something with your hair, wear a pretty little dress."

Suddenly this woman irked Riley more than she thought possible. "I'm sorry you don't approve."

Debbie smiled slyly, as if she had won something. "I'm just trying to be honest."

_No wonder Carl is possibly cheating on her. She's driving _me_ crazy!_ Riley sighed, before giving the offending woman a hard stare. "Then allow me to show the same courtesy. I don't effin' care what you think. I never cared what anyone thought. So, respectfully, take your makeup kit, and shove it down your throat."

Debbie was baffled by Riley's claim, looking completely insulted, especially while Riley gave a deceptively sweet smile. Unable to make a comeback, the woman walked away embarrassed that she had been outwitted. Riley snorted and nearly sighed when Ellen took Debbie's place.

"I heard the whole thing. I'm surprised you stood up to her!" The woman looked as if she was staring at Riley with awe. It was frightening.

"I don't let those who think highly of themselves to walk all over me." She paused, finishing her fruit punch. "I should go. I still got a lot of unpacking to do."

"Well, you did look a little bored, so I suppose I'll let you go," she said, giving a soft smile. "Have you tried the cookies yet?"

"I had one, they're awesome. I'll see you later Ellen. Tell Paul the steak was good."

"Will do! Goodnight!"

Bidding farewell, Riley walked off to her house, leaning against the front door when she got inside. There was so much to do, she realized. Tomorrow was going to be extremely busy. Going upstairs, she got her laptop and printer set up and started working on her resume.

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><p>The room was dark, with only a single light bulb barely bright enough to show a person sitting against the furthest wall from the steel door. The man wearing the orange prison jumpsuit barely heard the sound of footsteps echoing towards his cell. The locks were released and the door gave out a deafening screech as it slowly swung open. Standing there was the guard, and a man in a dark blue suit.<p>

"Vincent Valentine," he greeted.

The prisoner barely glanced up. "You here to try and take my head again?"

"No..." was all he said.

"Bullshit."

"I assure you, you're far too valuable to have eliminated."

"Tseng, the price is the same, dead or alive."

Tseng watched Vincent, though he could not see his face. "Hojo believes you have some use."

There was a pause that made a chill run up the agent's back. "Hojo is dead."

"You failed the last time."

"Then I'll have to try again," he said darkly, violence very evident in his tone.

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><p><strong>AN:** First chapter of a new Vincent story with my OC Riley, though I changed her last name from Tombs to Willows, because it seemed so cliche. Now, for those of you subscribed to my writings, I apologize that I haven't updated FFVII: Rhapsody of Chaos in a few months. I haven't been in the mood to write it, though it's still an ongoing story, so don't worry about that. I felt like I needed to write something new, and this idea is partly inspired by the movies The 'Burbs, There Goes the Neighbourhood, and Fido. No, there won't be zombies XD. Go watch Fido, it's awesome. Anyway, might write this for awhile before I return to writing for Rhapsody of Chaos. I'm brought back at least one OC from RoC, being Riley, not sure if I'll bring Shamus and Mona into it. And yes, there will be some AVALANCHE cast cameos, at least that. Overall, Vincent MIGHT be a little OOC, because he's going to be slightly more...assholish, but still sexy. I'll try to keep him his old self but considering the nature of this story, that's going to be difficult. Anyway, hoped you enjoyed the intro-chapter. Next one will be much more action-oriented, or at least more exciting. Consider this story as an appetizer for all you lovely RoC fans. This story will be considerably shorter too. But ANYWAY, R&R, thanks.


	2. CH2 The Escape

**House Arrest**

**Disclaimer:**_ All Final Fantasy VII related characters and ideas are copyright to Square-Enix, and only them. Any other characters are copyright to the author._

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><p><strong>Chapter Two – The Escape<strong>

Tseng stood there, completely expressionless as the dark man just sat there, making his threat. "Mr. Valentine. Professor Hojo has sent me here to present to you an offer. Your freedom is part of the deal." Vincent said nothing. "On the condition you work for him as his subject."

"There's no such thing as freedom when it comes to that man," Vincent spat. "Despite being an agent, you don't know a single thing about Hojo. Not one." He raised one knee, resting his arm on it. "That man's a bloody snake. I'd rather remain here than have him promise me this so-called freedom."

"He's made you stronger already, no?" Vincent remained silent. "Just think about the offer that was made. Without him, you won't be able to return to society, not with your record." Tseng left, leaving Vincent to ponder his situation.

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><p>A month had passed and Riley was still not used to the suburban life. By now, everything in her house was unpacked, her internet and phone hooked up. The laundry buzzed when it finished its load and she pulled it out of the dryer, dumping the contents into her basket rather than fold them. She was taking out the last articles when her phone rang. Slamming the door shut, she quickly ran into the kitchen, snatching the phone.<p>

"Hello?"

"Hey squirt!"

She smiled. "Hey dad. How's it going?"

"It's going. How's the new house?"

"It's going. Still a work in progress. Everything's unpacked though."

"Well, that's good. How's suburban life?"

"It totally sucks," she said bluntly. "Well, some of the neighbours aren't bad, except for one family. They got stick up their asses."

He laughed, "Everyone has a neighbour or two they hate. So, when am I gonna be allowed to come visit you?"

"When I finish the house."

"That could take all year!"

"I'm not a slow worker! Besides, I meant at least until the first floor was done. I'll still come visit you anyway, so don't worry about not seeing me."

"Well, alright. How's the rust bucket running?"

Riley involuntarily twitched. "Stop teasing me about the car. I'll get around to having it redone."

"Why don't you get one of them newer models?"

"Because I like the more classic looking cars."

"How are you getting around?"

"In the car."

"You're gonna burn it out before you can get it fixed!"

"It's still functional. Anyway, I gotta go. I still got things to do, so I'll call you later."

"Alright, love you squirt."

"Love you too, dad. Bye." She hung up, blowing the bangs out of her face before looking around the kitchen, making her shudder again. It still looked like a grandmother's kitchen. Her phone rang again. Blinking, she picked up. "Hello?"

"Hello, may I speak to Riley Willows?"

"Speaking?"

"Hello, I have your resume here..." Another job interview. Riley hadn't been doing so well with them, and was worried she wouldn't get a job.

By the time the phone interview was finished, Riley huffed, hanging up. Another failed interview. "Not qualified, my ass." Now in a bad mood, she decided to go out to eat again, heading for the diner. Sitting at the counter, she rested her chin on her upright palm.

Tifa came strolling over after serving a gentleman some coffee. "Hey Riley. Burger and fries today?"

"No. I want a milkshake. Chocolate."

Tifa nodded, getting to it, coming back moments later with it. "You look like you had a rough day."

"You could say that." She took a sip, almost glaring at the contents within the glass. "Had another interview on the phone."

"Didn't go well, huh?" Riley shook her head. "Why don't you apply here? I could put in a word for you."

Riley arched a brow. "I'm not one for serving fast food."

"Maybe not, but it's still a job. The manager offers full-time positions. I can at least guarantee you an interview."

Riley considered it, swirling the milkshake with the straw. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt. I didn't bring a resume though."

"You don't need one. You just have to fill out an application. I'll go get one." Tifa disappeared, having gone in the back before returning with an application and pen. "Here."

"Thanks Tifa. With the way my job searching is going, I can't afford to be picky."

Tifa smiled. "No problem. Say, how about later after I'm done my shift, you and I go meet up with some friends and have a night on the town."

She blinked, tapping the pen on the counter. "I dunno. I'm not big on the whole hanging out."

"Oh, c'mon, it'll be fun! What do you say?"

Riley hesitated before sighing. "Alright."

"Okay! Meet me at this address," she said while writing on a notepad, "at seven tonight. Who knows, you might meet a cute guy."

"I'm not interested in dating."

"All the same, this will get your mind off your stress." She ripped out the page and handed it over before dealing with the other customers.

Riley looked at the address, thinking she would need Google Maps to find it. _She's right, I do need to relax._

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><p>Meanwhile, a steel door was unlocked and Tseng stepped into Vincent's cell, who now sat on a cot. Behind the agent was two guards with cuff shackles. Vincent looked over, seeing a clipboard in Tseng's hand.<p>

"The answer is still no."

"Come now, Mr. Valentine. You don't have a say in the matter. Do you want your comrades to suffer?"

Vincent's eyes narrowed in the dark. He sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. "You win. How long before Hojo mutilates me to nothing?"

"Mr. Valentine, the professor only wishes to make you his greatest achievement. Through you, he'll be able to present a great gift to the world."

Vincent laughed darkly. "You're a fool Tseng. It doesn't matter though. Let's get this over with."

He stood up, barely regarding the guards as Tseng handed him the clipboard and a pen. Vincent took the clipboard, looking over the small contract, asking his permission to give his body to a man he hated most in this world. On the bottom of the page was a blank line, awaiting his signature. He took the pen, and it was all over. Vincent had not only grabbed the pen, but Tseng's wrist, pulling him forward as he drove his knee into his sternum, winding the agent as he dropped to the floor. Before a guard could call for backup, Vincent had rushed him, slamming his head against the wall. The other guard reached for his baton, but Vincent was too fast, already in front of him, driving a pen into his throat.

Tseng was crawling for the radio, but as he grabbed it, a foot slammed down, crushing the man's hand and destroying the radio. Tseng yelped, wincing before Vincent reached down, dragging him to his feet by the front of his shirt. With his good hand, he reached into his suit, but Vincent caught his wrist again, gripping it so tightly that he managed to snap it, getting another yelp from the agent, dropping a handgun to the floor. With abnormal strength, he threw him against the wall, Tseng falling to the floor unconscious.

The convict looked around at his handy work, and considered his options. Seeing the contract, he picked it up, ripping it to shreds before stripping both a guard and Tseng. He rid of his jumpsuit, quickly dressing up Tseng and putting him on the bed, messing up the agent's long black hair. The guards, he placed them against the walls and out of sight from the peep hole before dressing up in the guard uniform, using Tseng's clothes as padding to give an illusion that he had an outward gut, tucking his long hair into the helmet. Grabbing the keys, he left and locked the room, casually making his way to the more noisy part of the prison, baton hanging from his belt.

He looked around, seeing prisoners eating their daily bread and water, then he spotted his targets. Sitting together at a table were two men, both in their thirties. One was a tall black man with an large stature, a thick beard, and a buzz cut. The other was a white man with short blonde hair and a hard jawline with scruff. The blonde was smoking a cigarette while snorting at the food. Vincent walked up to them, but didn't say anything, trying to act casual.

The coloured one eyed the blonde's tray. "You gonna eat that, man?"

He scoffed, speaking with a Southern drawl, "Nah, you go ahead. I'm sick of this bread crap. I want some real food."

Vincent strolled around the cafeteria, listening in on their conversation closely. "I wonder how long they're going to keep Valentine in solitary."

"Who knows? Man is as dangerous as they come. I won't be surprised if they keep him there."

Vincent took this opportunity to stroll up beside them. "You two are talking too much. Lunch is over. Get up."

"C'mon man! We're just eating here!"

The blonde inhaled his cancer stick, blowing smoke at Vincent's face. "What you gonna do? Beat us for exercising our right to speak?"

Vincent resisted the urge to cough at the heavy fumes. "Now."

He forced both men to their feet effortlessly, dragging them off. Much to their surprise, they didn't go towards their cells. "What the? Where are you taking us?"

"Quiet."

They both looked at each other, blinking in confusion before it finally clicked and they both grinned. As he walked them down a hall, Vincent passed a guard, before instantly slamming him into the wall.

"Jesus Vincent!" The dark man cried out.

"I said quiet. Help me hide the body." They carried the body into the nearest room before stripping the guard, allowing the blonde to change. Vincent regarded him. "Barret, Cid, we're getting out of here."

Cid, grinned. "About damn time. I was getting deprived."

"What am I supposed to wear?" Barret complained.

"Nothing in this prison would ever fit a big guy like you," Cid exclaimed. "What's the plan?" he asked, regarding Vincent.

"We need weapons, and we need a vehicle. We're out in the middle of nowhere, so we're driving all night."

"How in the blazes did you get out anyway?"

"Somebody wasn't as cautious as they should have been. Right now, let's worry about escaping."

The two that were disguised had cuffed Barret, escorting him through the hallways. As the coast became clear, they eventually found the armoury. The guard inside was quickly made work of, getting knocked out before Vincent and Cid grabbed a duffel bag each with a variety of simple weapons. When they were done, they made their way to the garage, finding a jeep. They dumped the weapons in the back seat. Vincent found a wool blanket, covering Barret after he climbed in the back. Cid had opened the garage doors by now as Vincent took over the driver's seat. Driving up, Cid soon joined them before heading for the gate.

The gate's guard walked up to Vincent's side. "Done for the day?"

Vincent wryly smiled under his helmet's visor. "Yeah."

"Got your ID on you?"

Vincent searched his person. "Looks like I forgot it in the locker room."

The guard nodded. "Looks like you also forgot to change as well."

Cid gritted his teeth. Vincent remained calm however. "Mm." He raised a pistol. "Open the gate." The guard just stood there. "Now. Without giving any indication to those around you." The guard swallowed, going in to open the gate. As the fenced gates slide open, Vincent drove away, counting down the seconds till the alarm was raised. It took three as he sped off. "Always quick to have us captured."

Cid watched as the officers of the facility began to scramble, the heat of the sun beating down on his head after removing the helmet. "Damn fools."

Barret removed the blanket, sitting up. "What now?"

Cid sat back down. "Obviously we gotta get as far away as possible, dump the vehicle—"

"And the clothes," Vincent cut in.

"And the clothes, and find some place to lay low."

"Where's a place we can lay low?" asked Barret.

Vincent shook his head, unable to answer, removing his own helmet to let his ebony hair go free. Cid crossed his arms, mouth pursed. "I got a place in mind. We'll be able to make it there by nightfall if you speed up."

Vincent regarded him quizzically. "Where's that?"

"A town I knew this girl."

"We're not talking about Austin, are we?"

"No, numbskull! I'm talking about some other town. Real nice place. It'll be the last place they'd ever look for us!"

Vincent didn't look all that certain but decided that their options were limited. "Point the way."

* * *

><p>The time was drawing near and Riley didn't know what to wear. Granted, she didn't actually care, but decided to actually attempt to have a little fun with tonight. Deciding on a jean miniskirt and simple orange spaghetti strapped tank top, she slipped on a pair of black low heel boots, tightening the buckles. She put up her hair, with it fanning out behind her head, she grabbed her jacket, and headed out the door. It took only ten minutes to reach the designated location, spotting Tifa instantly in what looked like a western outfit, hat included. Parking her vehicle, she approached her friend.<p>

"Hey Tifa."

"Hey! My friends should be here soon. You look great!"

Riley smiled. "I try," she lied. "How many of your friends am I meeting anyway?"

"Cloud, Aerith, Reno, and Rude."

"That's a lot of friends," she said bluntly.

Tifa laughed. "To some, that's apparently not enough."

"Tifa!" someone called out.

Both girls looked in the direction of the voice. The one that called out was a girl with long brown hair, having been let down in massive waves. Her eyes were an exotic green, and she wore a simple red dress with matching shoes. Beside her was an extremely spiky-headed blonde with blue eyes, wearing a simple purple button-up shirt and black slacks.

"Hey Aerith! Hey Cloud, where's the other guys?"

"They're meeting us at the bar."

"Bar?" Riley said suddenly before looking at Tifa. "I don't drink."

Tifa smiled. "They got more than alcohol available. Oh, guys, this is Riley."

Aerith smiled warmly. "Hello!"

"Yo," was all Cloud said, nodding politely.

Riley nodded back before they were off to a bar called 7th Heaven. Waiting inside for them was two guys, the shorter and lankier one having spiky red hair with a long ponytail, the other being tall and quiet with a bit of a tan, having a trimmed beard, bald head, and wearing a pair of shades.

"Hello guys," Tifa greeted.

"Hey toots!" The red-head greeted.

The other sighed, giving him a disapproving tone, "Reno..."

"Relax Rude, she takes no offence! Right?"

Rude shook his head before Tifa interrupted them, "Guys, this is Riley. Riley, this is Rude and Reno."

"Hellooo there!" Reno was suddenly closer to Riley, nearly making her take a step back. "I'm Reno, and I would like to buy you a drink."

"She doesn't drink Reno," Tifa said.

"What? Everybody drinks!"

Rude shook his head again, bowing his head towards Riley in the same manner as Cloud. The evening went more quickly than the barbecue and Riley was beginning to forget her troubles. Eventually, music began to kick up a notch and Aerith dragged Cloud to the dance floor. Riley noticed the sullen look on Tifa's face, frowning a little with sympathy for her friend. Rude seemed to have noticed as well and offered a hand to her after standing.

"Would you honour me with a dance, Tifa?" he asked quietly.

Tifa blinked then smiled. She nodded, taking his hand and following after him, leaving Riley and Reno alone at their table. He turned to her and grinned. She beat him to his question. "No."

"Aw, c'mon."

"You're a nice guy, Reno, but I'm not interested."

"Why, is there another guy?"

"Nope."

"Not even a crush?"

"Nope," she said, smiling.

He sighed, running fingers through his hair. "C'mon, one dance, and I'll leave you alone."

"I hate to admit that I can't dance worth shit."

He laughed, "Neither can I, but I'm a little tipsy, so I don't give a crap."

"Nah, that's alright, you go have fun. I'm just gonna relax here."

"Alright! Suit yourself," he said, getting up and going off to hit on girls within the vicinity.

Riley smiled, watching her new friends enjoy themselves as she sat there, drinking her soda. It wasn't long before somebody slipped into a seat beside her. She turned and blinked, seeing Carl right there. "Mr. Johnson!"

"Hello Miss Willows. We never got a chance to chat at the barbecue."

"Indeed," was all she said. "Why the sudden interest now?"

"Well, my wife doesn't seem to be very approving of you, so for that, I apologize. She's a very judgemental person."

Riley considered it before taking another sip. "Apology accepted I suppose. What are you doing here?"

"Just out. Felt like a drink. Wasn't expecting you here."

"Just out," she mirrored. "Won't Debbie be missing you?"

"That woman doesn't miss anyone but herself." _Divorce is always an option_, she said inwardly, silently hoping he'd just go away. He regarded her. "You found a job yet?"

Suddenly she was on guard, and her back went rigid. "Yes, I did," she lied. The last thing she wanted was help from a man who had a reputation of taking advantage of young women.

"Hm, that's too bad. Well, if you ever need a job, come to me. I've know a couple of places that are hiring girls of your calibre."

"Uh, sure," she said uneasily.

He patted her hand. "Nice to see you, neighbour."

Aerith and Cloud were just coming back as Carl left. "Was that Mr. Johnson?" Aerith asked.

"Yeah," Riley confirmed. "Aerith, Tifa said he assaulted you before..."

"Yes." Aerith rubbed her arm. "I was so glad Cloud came by when he did."

Cloud was glaring after Carl as he left the bar entirely. "Next time he pulls something, he's getting more than a nosebleed."

Aerith slipped in beside Riley. "What did he say to you?"

"He offered me help in finding a job. I lied, telling him I already have one."

"Good, don't accept anything from that creep," Cloud warned, taking a seat.

"You need a job?" the florist asked. "You could always come to my shop."

"Tifa offered to help me get employed at the diner, but I'll keep the flower shop in mind."

Aerith smiled. "Alright. It's called Breath of the Earth."

Riley paused, lip quivering as if holding something back. "It sounds like a hippie store!"

Cloud laughed and Aerith pouted angrily, cheeks blowing up. "Oh Cloud! Stop laughing!"

"I can't help it, it really does!"

Riley laughed as well as the rest of the night passed without notice. When the bar closed, Riley said goodnight to her friends, driving home, having forgotten about her stress. Getting home, the first thing she did was change into a pair of small white bed shorts and a matching tank top, slipping under her bed covers.

* * *

><p>By the time they reached the designated town, everyone was asleep, and Vincent turned off the headlights, wanting to go through unnoticed. "We're here Cid, so want to fill me in on where exactly we're going?"<p>

"I'mma lookin'," the blonde said, peering at a map with a small flashlight. "Keep going down this street for a few miles and turn left on Mountain Grove Street."

"Yo man, I'm hungry!" Barret complained.

"Shaddup! We'll worry about food later!"

"First thing's first. We need to get rid of our current attire and this vehicle. We'll have to walk from now on," Vincent declared.

"There's a river nearby," Cid offered.

"That's good enough."

Reaching the river, they all took off their clothes, wearing only white tanks and boxers, throwing them in the jeep before pushing it into the river, watching it slowly sink before walking off into the dark town, lit only by streetlights. They found a clothing store, going around the back and breaking the lock on the back door. Vincent peered inside, spotting a camera. Thinking it didn't matter if they were on tape, he strolled in.

"Yo, what about the cameras?"

"They don't check the feed unless they notice something is missing. Just find whatever fits and we'll leave."

"They're gonna notice the back door is broken."

"Then we'll erase the feed. Cid, you can do that, right?"

"Right."

"Good, let's hurry and get out of here."

It didn't take any of them long to pick their attire. Their entire outfits were completely black. Barret had a tank top, cargo pants, combat boots, and fingerless gloves. Cid chose a fitting t-shirt with leather gloves, with the same pants and boots. Vincent decided upon a fitting three-quarter sleeved shirt that covered his neck slightly, with also the same pants and boots, and same gloves as Barret, only leather. Cid found the store office, finding the security feed, rewinding the tape and letting it record over the previous feed.

"Viola. Let's high tail it out of here." An hour or so passed before they found Mountain Grove Street. "This is the place," Cid announced, holding the map while the other two carried the duffel bags.

Vincent looked at the map to where Cid pointed with a flashlight. "Why here?"

"Y'see, the girl I was seeing at the time knew about this house that these inspectors were planning on condemning. Nobody has lived there at all for at least a decade, so I'm hoping it's still there and we can use it."

Barret scoffed, "That's your plan? Hide out in a rickety old house that might fall on us, and _hope_ it's still there?"

"You got a better idea, Wallace?"

"That's enough, both of you. It's all we have right now, so let's just go with it."

They walked down the street, hardly lit since it lacked streetlamps. Cid stopped in front of the house, pointing at it. "That's the one," he whispered."

"Is there a back door?" Vincent asked.

"I think so."

The trio walked around to the back, finding the door and breaking in with ease, not taking notice of the unpacked objects in the dark. Barret bumped into a table, cursing. Cid swore at him before finding the living room, blinking. Vincent was already on his way upstairs, noticing something was off. Didn't Cid say that nobody would live here? Feeling a small sensation of dread, he ventured through the upstairs hallway, opening one door, finding boxes barely visible in the moonlight. He kept moving, finding the master bedroom, freezing on the spot.

Sleeping on a bed that shouldn't be there was a young woman, sprawled under the covers, hair all over the place. She turned over in her slumber and his heart stopped, half praying she wouldn't wake up. Thankfully, she didn't and he quietly backed out of the room. Quickly, he made his way downstairs, grabbing a bag.

"What the hell Vincent?"

"We're leaving," he harshly whispered. "Somebody lives here."

"What? That's impossible! This place should be condemned!"

"Apparently it's not. Let's go before she wakes up—"

"_She_?" Cid repeated, looking at Barret. "I got a better idea. How about we stay, tie the woman up and we still have a place to hide."

"Cid, despite your intelligence, that is the worst idea you have ever uttered."

Barret shifted his weight from one foot to another. "Still, I have to agree with Highwind. We got nowhere else to go."

"We'll find a place," Vincent argued. "If we suddenly detain her, people who may know her might come looking. We can't afford to get caught."

"Though I agree with you," Cid began, "I still vote we stay. It's two against one Vincent. If you're not with us, then go. We'll stay here and do whatever we have to."

Vincent glared at them before sighing in defeat, "Fine."

All three heard a creak and each of them looked up towards the source, seeing Riley standing there on the top floor, gaping at them. There was a full ten seconds of silence before Riley bolted to her room. The trio cursed as they all rushed up the stairs, though Vincent was the first to reach the closed door. He tried kicking it open, but apparently she had time to somehow barricade the door. Exhaling with violent intent, he kicked harder, knocking over the dresser, seeing her already on the phone. She squeaked as he dove for her, ripping the cord out of the object. Gripping her by the hair, he pulled her to her feet.

"Ow! Let me go!"

He gripped one of her flailing fists, tightening his grasp before catching her other wrist. "Cid! Grab her legs!"

"Gotcha!" Though he had more trouble, he managed to catch her legs.

It didn't stop her from struggling. "SOMEBODY HELP!"

Vincent would have none of her screaming. He had Barret grab her wrists before pulling out a pistol, holding it under her lower jaw. "Quiet." She instantly silenced, eyeing him defiantly. "From this point forward, you're our prisoner. What we say, goes. If you defy us to any degree, I assure you...I will kill you." He paused, letting the information sink in. "Is that understood?"

She swallowed. "Y-yes."

Vincent watched her for a moment before putting away the firearm. "Good. Tie her to the bed." He watched as Barret and Cid placed her back on the bed and Cid pulled out a couple of handcuffs, cuffing her to the head of the bed. Vincent sat on the bed, his reddish-brown eyes looking her over. "Behave and we'll treat you decently. Despite what we are, we have no intention of harming you. Now, go back to sleep. We'll see you in the morning."

Riley just lied there as they left, having the lights shut off on her. She shook slightly with the rush of adrenaline, swallowing hard. _What the hell have I done to deserve this?_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** And second chapter up, yay. I found this chapter more interesting than the first, I admit. Another thing...I think Rude is a sexy beast. I think that's mainly because he's voiced by Crispin Freeman, but anyway. So, yes, Vincent is a bit of an asshole, though that's not quite noticeable in this chapter. Next chapter, he's more likely to be a complete prick. A small tidbit, I was reading Vincent's profile on the Final Fantasy Wikia and discovered that during development, Vincent had a completely different personality to the one we all know him to have. Ha ha "suave and flirtatious demeanour." That just makes me giggle. I'm certain that's what he COULD still be when the occasion calls for it. Anyway, next chapter is most likely going to be pretty vanilla. Riley's gotta adjust to the whole hostage thing and Vincent's gotta adjust to the whole...well...Riley thing XD. She's a spitfire, that one. :P Anyway, hope you enjoyed, and please R&R. Thank you.


	3. CH3 The Plan

**House Arrest**

**Disclaimer:**_ All Final Fantasy VII related characters and ideas are copyright to Square-Enix, and only them. Any other characters are copyright to the author._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three – The Plan<strong>

Riley was startled awake by the sound of the door swinging open, hitting the wall hard, the doorknob possibly leaving a hole in it. In the doorway stood Cid, holding a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice. Expecting that she was being fed, she attempted to straighten herself on the bed, back against the barred head with her cuffed hands over her left shoulder. Instead of getting what she expected, the man simply took a seat on the fallen over dresser, eating in front of her.

She glared at him but said nothing. He chewed almost thoughtfully before finally speaking, "You got any tea in this place?"

"I don't drink tea," she said bitterly.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Everybody should drink tea!"

Riley sniffed with disdain but the action caused her to get a whiff of an unpleasant odour. "Were you...smoking?"

"Maybe I was. You got a problem with that?"

"In fact, I do! If you're going to keep me hostage, the least you can do is keep your bad habits outside!"

Cid just grinned before putting aside the bowl and pulling a pack out of his pants pocket, slid a fag between his lips before lighting the end. Taking one long inhale, he removed the cigarette and blew out a huge puff of smoke in her general direction. Her glare was still fixed on him.

"Like it or not, missy, but you heard Vincent last night. What we say, goes. You don't like it? Tough shit." Remembering the feel of cold steel, she remained silent. He squashed the finished cigarette under his boot before resuming his breakfast. "Not my kind of breakfast, but it'll do. You have any decent food in this place?"

She said nothing. His brow twitched when she looked away before Barret came in. "Vincent told me to watch her."

"What? I just got here. Well, whatever, she's pissing me off." Taking his breakfast with him, he left.

Barret looked around before taking Cid's seat. She was surprised it could support this large man's weight. "I need to pee," she said suddenly, completely startling him.

"Uh," was all he could muster. "Are you serious?"

"Would you rather I sit in piss? You can check the bathroom, there isn't a window or phone I can use. And with guns in the house, I'd like to live past today."

Barret thought it over, scratching his beard. "Alright."

He did indeed check the bathroom, finding nothing of sort, just like she assured him. Getting out the keys, he undid her cuffs, watching her slide into the bathroom to do her business. Lifting the lid loud enough for him to hear, she glanced around the room, trying to find something, _anything_, that could help her. Bobby pins. She had bobby pins. Quietly, she searched for them, slipping a couple into her hair before actually doing her business. Once she was done, she opened the door and it didn't take long to be cuffed to the bed again. Barret resumed his spot, checking a gun he had brought in with him, cleaning it.

"I'm hungry," she said eventually, having been watching him.

Barret looked up before scratching his head. He knew better than to leave the room. Getting up, he opened the bedroom door. "Cid!"

"What?" came the reply.

"Get some food up here!"

"Come get it yourself!"

"I can't leave, moron!"

"Oh for chrissakes!"

Riley could hear the rummaging through the kitchen downstairs, going rigid at the sound of a dish breaking. "He's breaking my dishes..."

Moments later, Cid came up bearing half-assed sandwiches. "Here, you damn fool! I'm not your waitress!"

"It's not for me—"

"What did you break?" Riley suddenly blurt out.

Cid blinked. "I broke nothing!"

"You lie! You broke a plate, didn't you?"

"And if I did?"

"You asshole! Those took me awhile to afford! It's one thing to break into my house, it's entirely another to go breaking my stuff that I worked hard to get!"

"You think I give two cents of a damn about your stuff?"

"YOU SHOULD!"

"WELL I DON'T!"

"Both of you fools, shut the hell up!" Barret bellowed over them like a large bear, silencing the argument immediately. "Despite the fact she's our prisoner, this is still her house. We're gonna have to find some other place to lay low, but in the meantime, we should respect her house."

"She's still our prisoner, Barret!"

"You still broke my dish," Riley pointed out.

"Christ, woman! It's just a dish!" With her glaring at him, he stormed out of the room, wanting to avoid further argument as he grumbled about women being a pain in his ass.

Barret sighed, sitting on the plate. "I'll have to feed you."

Riley seemed disappointed but consented to it. She opened her mouth when he held out a sandwich to her, taking a bite. It was like this for ten minutes before she said she was fine. He began eating the rest of the sandwiches on the plate as she watched him. Speaking of bears, he pretty much looked like one. He seemed to be the kindest of the three and perhaps she'd be able to convince him to release her.

"Um," she began, "why are you guys in my house anyway?"

He looked at her. "Cid thought this place was abandoned. Right now, we got no other place to hide." He chewed thoughtfully. "This place looks like it'll fall apart any moment. How long have you been here?"

"Only a month. I bought it a couple months ago for pretty cheap because it's in such bad shape."

"Why?" he asked, genuinely curious.

There was a couple of reasons, but she would only admit one. "Houses can be refurbished, especially if you work from the bottom. I was planning on hiring an inspector to see what needed to be done, while knowing there would be much to do. My dad's a contractor half the time, so I know a little about houses, but I'm not a professional. So, I was going to hire a contractor as well. Get everything redone and rebuilt, and redecorated, but the decorating will be my job."

"Wow," he said. "Seems you're rather passionate about reviving this house."

She nodded. "Though, I'm still looking for a job, so I don't know how long it'll be before that happens."

"I see." He paused. "Suppose you don't have any tea at all, do you?"

She considered. "I don't have teabags; I make my own blend of tea. Why?"

"Cid."

"He got a fetish with tea or something?"

"I dunno but if somebody has gotten on his nerves, he's on everybody nerves."

She scoffed, "I see. I could make it, but that requires releasing the cuffs."

"No can do." He smiled knowingly.

"It was worth a shot," she admitted. "You're...what's your name again?"

He smile never faltered. "It's Barret. You are?"

She hesitated but thought the big guy wasn't all that bad. "Riley."

"Nice to meet you, Riley. I'm sorry things turned out this way. You're alright, girl."

She nodded in agreement. _I'm still turning all three of you in when I get out of here._

* * *

><p>Barret and Riley had chatted for awhile before Cid came to take over for him. The middle-aged blonde just glared at her while having another cigarette. She only glared right back, but seemed more complacent thanks to Barret's previous company. She asked again to go to the bathroom, quickly snatching more bobby pins. The more she had, the better, in case some of them broke in her attempts later. Sitting on the bed again, she sighed, then sighed, then sighed, and sighed again till she got on Cid's nerves.<p>

"What?"

"I'm bored."

"I don't give a rat's ass!"

"You obviously do, thanks to me annoying you with my boredom."

"Well, what the hell do you expect me to do about it? Sing and dance?"

"You're not much for eye candy, so please don't." His mouth twitched, as if resisting a snarl. She stared at the ceiling in thought. "Though, music isn't a bad idea. Bring my laptop."

"I'm not fucking stupid! You'll send one of them emails!"

"Drat...you caught me. Well, at least bring me my mp3 player."

His mouth twitched again. "Where is it?"

"In my nightstand, in the drawer."

He got up, watching her cautiously before opening the drawer, his face paling at the contents inside. "What the hell is this?"

"My girl drawer." She grinned, unable to help it after seeing him pale further, while also getting red around the ears. She didn't think it possible that the man could look flustered, other than from rage. What she had a harder time trying not to laugh.

He pulled out a simple silver vibrator. He looked at it thoughtfully. "Why don't you use this to entertain yourself?"

"I'm not in the mood, and I don't give live shows," she replied. He pulled out a box of condoms, giving her an odd look. "What? You expect me to be unprepared?"

"They're expired."

"Oh...throw 'em away then."

"You strike me a virgin."

"That is NONE of your business!"

"You're the one who wants an mp3 player," he pointed out. He pulled out a couple harmless things before finally spotting his target, pulling out the device by the headphone wires, throwing it on her lap. "There's your damn music. Now shut the hell up."

She stared at it, or rather leered. "I can't pick it up."

"What?"

"I need help putting the headphones on." He gave a dramatic sigh, before taking the headphones and putting them atop her head and over her ears. "Wrong way." He growled, turning them around. "Now put the player in my hands so I can operate it."

"Bloody hell, woman!" He did so and stomped away, reclaiming his seat. "You got no chairs in this damn place, let alone a couch!"

She didn't reply, having turned up her music to highest volume, screening out his voice entirely. Her attitude was making him even more pissed off than he usually was and was about to say something before Vincent cut in, "Calm down, Cid. You're letting her get you riled up."

"I say we kill her. Right now!"

"Leave," was all Vincent said. Cid huffed and made good of the demand, leaving Vincent and Riley alone.

Rather than sit down, he leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. He eyed the vibrator sitting on the nightstand, arching his brow, and thought better of asking. He watched her for the longest time, staying utterly still. Riley felt his eyes, causing a chill to run up her back. She shifted slightly, changing the song. Getting bored with her own music, she switched the player to radio function, tuning into a local station.

"—_as of late. Recently, three prisoners had escaped from the Ohio State Penitentiary as of yesterday morning. How they escaped is unknown, as the prison staff refused to give comment. What is known is that only three guards were injured, suffering concussions, and one was killed. Police are asking anyone who has any information of these escapees, to contact them. The first one is Cid Highwind. A white male, 5'8", short light blonde hair, blue eyes, and has a medium build. The second is Barret Wallace. A black male, 6'4", short black hair, and brown eyes with a large build. The third is Vincent Valentine. A white male, 6', long black hair, brown eyes, and thin medium build. These men are considered extremely dangerous and caution is highly recommended. It is also highly likely that they are armed—_"

Riley's eyes widened, listening to the broadcast. Slowly, she raised her gaze to Vincent, who only merely watched her. She barely managed to slip the headphones down to hang off her neck, turning off the device. There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Are you..." she began, her mouth dry, having forgotten to have anything to drink. "Did you really escape from prison yesterday?"

He said nothing for a moment. She was just figuring that out now? "What of it? You thought we came in here just for fun?"

"N-no, but I thought you were just some military punks trying to escape army guys because you were bad at boot camp! I didn't think you were actually convicts."

"Why's that?"

"You're not a bunch of kill-'em-for-fun types. At least, that's the impression I got. You're too...organized and calm?"

He scoffed, "Serial killers can be organized and calm. That's what makes them dangerous." She gulped, making him smile slightly in such a way that made her more uncomfortable. "Though, you're right, we're not the 'kill-'em-for-fun' types."

"Then what kind of criminals are you?"

"That isn't your business, is it?" She remained silent. "Believe me, the less you know, the better."

"I'll take your word for it," she muttered. "Are you actually going to kill me, or is this imprisonment temporary?"

"That depends on you. It's simple; you cooperate, we treat you decently and no harm comes to you."

"I'm still curious about what you did to land yourself in jail."

"Hm. Like I said, it's better that you don't know. You'll sleep better at night."

"I barely slept at all last night with my arms like this, and I need a shower, and I'm thirsty."

"You're making quite the amount of demands, despite your current position."

"I'm not calling for help, am I?"

He smiled. "I'll tell you what. I'll release one hand. I'll go get you a drink, and when you're done, you can have your shower. Sound fair?"

She pursed her lips in thought. "I suppose."

Another moment of silence before Vincent walked over, releasing one pair of cuffs, freeing her right hand. Using the extra pair, he extended the other pair, giving her left arm the relief it needed. He left the room briefly, coming back with a glass of water, placing it on the stand.

"Thank you," was all she said, sipping the cool liquid, relieving her throat.

Once she was done, she put aside the glass. By then, Vincent had righted the dresser, shoving it against the wall. He placed a chair he brought up beside the window, finally releasing her. Rubbing her wrist, she moved to the dresser, the clothes inside all in disarray now since using it as a makeshift barricade, only to have it fall over and fail her. She looked through her pyjamas and undergarments, pulling out a simple pair of bright orange flannel bottoms with dark and light blue vertical stripes of different thicknesses. Vincent sat in the chair, watching her pull out black panties and a sports bra of the same colour, along with white ankle socks. She moved to her closet, grabbing a light blue tank top, and a black zip-up hooded sweater, which she merely threw on the bed for now.

The shower took her a full half hour, not knowing when they would allow her to shower next. She brushed her teeth, and brushed her hair, finding a hair elastic, putting in the bobby pins she had taken out. Doing her business for a final time, she left the safety of the room, her eyes meeting Vincent's. He knew damn well that should couldn't succeed in escaping. The window was out of the question, and the man was extremely fast. Even if she somehow managed to outrun him, she'd still have the risk of running into Barret and Cid. Right now, she would have to wait till she was alone.

"You done?" he asked. She nodded and he got up as she sat down on the bed, brushing back damp strands of her bangs as Vincent replaced the cuff on her left wrist. He paused, watching her a moment. "What did you use?"

His question had caught her off guard, and was half panicking that he knew she was hiding something. "What are you talking about?" she asked, forcing her voice to remain steady.

"You smell nice." That was even more unexpected.

"That's what happens when one showers," she joked, half-laughing.

Snapping the cuff semi-tight on her wrist, he leaned in, making her recoil in defence. "I won't hurt you," he whispered. Somehow, just the mere tone of his voice had elicited a sort of calm from her. He inhaled deeply, reaching behind her neck, laying his hand there gently. "Vanilla?"

She swallowed. "Y-yeah."

He seemed to take in the scent a bit longer before he stuck his fingers into her hair, pulling out a bobby pin, pulling away with a smug look. She sat there, heart sinking into her gut. "Unlike the others, I always frisk someone." He pulled out her hair elastic, letting her damp hair go loose before he searched for more possible escape tools.

She wasn't sure what was worse. The way he made her suddenly feel simply by the sound of his voice, or the fact he was ahead of her, having already been aware she had a plan in mind. "You bastard," she whispered, looking slightly dazed.

"Like I said, it's better that you don't know what I'm capable of, otherwise I'd be giving away every one of my tricks and secrets." He got up, going into the bathroom, finding the rest of her stash of bobby pins before looking at her. "Good night." And he left, turning off the light, shutting the door.

She kicked at the air like a child with a tantrum, throwing the covers over herself in a huff. _Clever son of a bitch!_ Pulling the covers from her face, looking at the door, listening for any sounds, she reached into her pillowcase, pulling out about ten bobby pins. Unbeknownst to Vincent, she had hidden them when he went to get her some water. Inwardly laughing maniacally, she began to make work of picking the lock.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Bwahaha! No matter how clever Vincent is, he's no match for a woman! And before people ask, yes, you can pick handcuffs with a bobby pin. Apparently there's a very simple way to do it. Look it up. Also, no, I will not make this a supernatural story. Vincent IS going to have alterations done to him, but they'll be so minimal, that he'll hardly be any different from a regular human. I was hoping to make this an action genre, as there will still be a few scenes that will call upon Vincent's kung-fu skills, but I don't know what genre that classifies as action on FanFiction net. I might stick with general since I can't decide. That's all I can think of to say this time. Please R&R, thanks.


	4. CH4 A Compromise

**House Arrest**

**Disclaimer:**_ All Final Fantasy VII related characters and ideas are copyright to Square-Enix, and only them. Any other characters are copyright to the author._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four – A Compromise<strong>

Pin by pin, Riley continued to fiddle with the cuffs, but to no avail. It wasn't until the seventh pin that she managed to release the latch inside, relinquishing her wrist. Quietly, she removed the bed covers and tiptoed over to the window, slowly opening it. She paused when the window was looser than she expected, opening all the way in a second. Hearing no footsteps, she sighed with relief, having held her breath. She poked her head out the window, looking around to see if any of them were in the backyard. Coast clear, she sought for a way down. Nothing.

Considering how old the place was, there wasn't even a fire escape. This was a problem. Deciding to risk injury, she climbed through till she was sitting on the window sill. Slowly edging further out till she hung from the window, she dropped down, falling over on the ground below since there was no grass to cushion her. Relieved to find she wasn't injured, Riley took the hair elastic from her wrist, tying up her hair as she moved to her feet. Running as fast as she could, she opened the backyard gate, and rushed across the street and straight onto the the Adams' property. She was two steps onto the porch when she was suddenly grabbed from behind. Her scream barely echoed for a second before a hand was clasped over her mouth.

"You're a difficult one," a familiar voice whispered in her ear.

She kicked at the air, and even attempted to stomp on Vincent's feet as he dragged her back with mild difficulty. He winced when she managed to remove his hand, soon latching her teeth onto it. Regardless, he already had her back in the house, slamming the door behind him before throwing her off him. She fell to the floor, scrambling to her feet.

"How the hell did she get out?" Cid demanded.

"Later," Vincent blew off, running after Riley as she entered the kitchen.

Instead of running for the back door, which Barret stood in front of, she ran for the knife stand, pulling out the French knife just as Vincent grabbed her. Reacting, she cut the blade across his hand. He recoiled, backing away, cradling his bleeding hand. She backed up into the fridge, both hands clasped around the knife's handle, holding it out defensively. All three criminals eyed her cautiously. Vincent began approaching her slowly.

She pointed the knife in his direction in an instant. "Stay back! I swear I'll use this thing!"

Vincent raised his hands in defence, taking a step back. "Okay...just stay calm."

"Calm?" she cried out. She looked far from calm, her clothes soiled from dirt, her face flustered from adrenaline, and her eyes were shimmering, as if she was close to crying from the frustration of her situation. "Fuck calm! I'll stick you! I swear to god!"

"Missy, there's three of us, and one of you," Cid exclaimed in a low tone.

"I don't give a damn! Just stay away from me!"

"C'mon girl, just put the knife down. None of us want to hurt you," Barret soothed.

"Don't patronize me, Barret. I like you, but I'll hurt you if I have to, I swear," she warned, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

"Listen," Vincent began, taking another step towards her, "you can't get out of this. If you put the knife down, I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement."

"Screw you. Your promises are empty!"

He watched her, taking another step towards her. "What do you want?"

Her lip quivered, barely keeping herself together. "Get out of my house. Don't come back here."

"We can't do that."

"Then fuck you," she retorted.

"Don't make me do this," he pleaded, pulling out the gun.

Her breath caught in her throat, forcing herself to swallow. "Y-you can't use it. The neighbours will hear it."

"Perhaps, but that doesn't mean I won't use it."

Riley could see how dead serious he was about that claim, and it profoundly scared her. Just that fact alone was enough to send the blade clattering to the floor, with her following, having fallen to her knees, hands over her ears as she sobbed in defeat. Cid slipped by Vincent, kicking away the knife, ready to grab her. She slapped away his hands hysterically, turning around, back to them as she hugged herself.

"Leave her alone, Cid," Vincent said softly.

"But I—" Vincent shook his head. Taking one last look at Riley, Cid left the room.

Vincent slipped the gun into the back of his waistband, leaning against the counter, crossing his arms. Barret walked over to Riley, kneeling next to her and rubbing her back. Vincent half-glared at the girl, pondering over why he was allowing her to trouble him so much. When Riley finally calmed down, she simply sat there on the floor, ignoring everything around her. Vincent soon told Barret to take her to bed before heading for the living room, sitting on the floor against the wall and leaning his head back.

* * *

><p>A couple of days passed by and Riley had never made another attempt. She never picked the locks, and she hardly said anything, only asking for a bathroom break and sustenance. Even if Cid smoked in her room, she never made a peep, though she still glared at him for it. It was reassuring to Vincent that she still had some life in her, though the relief was a surprise to himself. Still, he had other things to worry about, like the police, and Hojo. He had announced to the other two to join him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, a handgun laying on its surface.<p>

"What's this about Vincent?" Cid asked.

Vincent tapped his boot against the dirtied linoleum. "Hojo."

"What? I thought that bastard was dead and gone!" Barret bellowed. "You even said so yourself!"

"I didn't actually check to see if he was dead." He sighed. "One of the TURK Agents, Tseng, came to my cell over a month ago on Hojo's behalf."

"What the hell would that crazy old coot want with you?"

Vincent looked at Cid. "Honestly, I don't know. Although, whatever he did to me, he probably believes he improved my skills with those experiments of his."

"And that's why you suddenly decided to break out?"

"More or less. If he's alive, I want to find him before he finds me. And this time...I'll make sure he's dead. After that, I won't care if I'm put on Death Row."

Barret crossed his arms. "What do we do about Riley?"

"Who the hell is Riley?" Cid asked.

"That's her name," Vincent replied, taking a guess who Barret meant. "I'll make a deal with her."

"What? Are you crazy? Damn lass pulled a knife on us!"

"Wouldn't you have done the same in her position?" Vincent pointed out. Cid said nothing. "Listen, keeping her prisoner is one thing, but if we make some sort of deal with her, we can have a place to stay, and she'll be able to go out and do some errands for us. As far as I can tell, she's a smart and level-headed woman when she needs to be."

"What makes you think she'll help us?"

"Everyone has their price."

* * *

><p>Riley was brought down into the kitchen, Cid pulling her by the cuffs. "What?" she asked bitterly.<p>

Vincent watched her, arms crossed. "We'll let you go." She blinked in surprise. "With a few conditions. One, you don't turn us in. Two, you accommodate us."

"Accommodate you?" she repeated. "By doing what?"

"We need to stay here." Her expression suddenly deflated. "We have nowhere else to go. We also need you to go on errands for us."

"What?"

"You know who we are, so it should be obvious we can't simply go out whenever we want. You're the only one who can."

She watched him, considering the options he had presented to her. "And if I say no?"

"Then we're back where we started."

"I see." She was silent for a long time. "Am I allowed to have my own conditions?"

"That depends on what they are."

She pointed at Cid. "One, he smokes outside." Cid snorted. "Not through an open window, but physically outside."

Vincent glanced at his blonde friend. "I think that can be arranged. Anything else?"

"Don't touch my stuff, let alone break it. If I find something broken, you're replacing it."

"Fine."

"And..." she thought about it, "don't make trouble."

"Fair." He straightened. "We have a deal then?"

She sighed. "Yes."

"You can release her cuffs, Barret." He did so before she rubbed her wrists, and walked off. Cid pulled out his pack, slipping a cigarette between his lips. "Cid..."

"What?"

"Outside."

"Bloody hell!"

"You heard me."

The blonde snorted, going out back to calm his nerves. Barret placed the cuffs on the counter. "You sure we're doing the smart thing?"

"I don't know about smart, but I think this is the right thing to do." He shook his head slightly. "She's not one that deserves to have her freedom taken away. Besides, my instincts are telling me we can trust her." Barret said nothing. "I've been wrong before, but I'm also less trusting than I used to be."

"Just don't let it become a thing like before. It nearly got us killed last time."

Vincent rubbed his face, taking note to shave next chance he got. "I know."

* * *

><p>Next day, Riley came downstairs, showered and dressed, finding all three of the guys in the kitchen. Vincent was just standing near the window, and the other two were chatting it up about something. They all looked over at her as she rubbed her arm uncomfortably before going over to the fridge, looking inside. After two minutes of her shuffling things inside with one hand, the other hand suddenly snapped off the fridge handle, startling the men. She slammed the door shut and just stared at it.<p>

"Who ate all the steak?" she asked quietly. They didn't say anything. "WHO?" she repeated, staring owlishly at them.

"Cid," Barret betrayed suddenly.

"You bastard!"

Riley glared at Cid. "You ATE my steaks? ALL of them?"

"It's a man's meat anyway!"

"Not in this house!"

Vincent stepped between them before either of them would start a physical fight. "Well, you need to go out anyway."

"What? Why?"

"There are things we need. We discussed this last night, remember?"

"You think I'm made of money or something?"

"I'm sure you have something."

Riley just glowered up at him, unimpressed. "Make a list," she said before walking away.

Vincent blinked. Barret was just as surprised. "That was easy."

"How do we know she won't go to the police?" Cid questioned.

Vincent replied, "She won't."

She came back moments later with her keys and purse, which looked more like a tote bag. Vincent handed her a list with paper from a notepad he found on the fridge. "...You serious?"

"What?"

"Razors, beer, and clothes?"

"Hey! Beer is a necessity in every man's life," Cid remarked.

"True words of an alcoholic," she retorted.

Vincent shook his head. "Don't worry about the alcohol. I suggest remembering to get tea though before Cid gets on our case."

"Right," she said. "Because everyone has to please _him_."

"I resent that!"

Barret laughed, "But it's true!"

"Fuck you!"

Vincent ignored his comrades. "Just get whatever is on the list for now. I expect you back within two hours."

"I'm on curfew now?"

"Just a precaution."

She sighed. "Fine." Going past the other two, she unlocked a door to the garage. The men just followed her, looking at what used to be considered a car. She opened the garage door and blinked when turning around. "What?"

"Is that supposed to a car?" Barret asked, quite baffled.

"Looks like a trashcan on wheels to me," Cid agreed.

"Oh fuck you all! Why does everyone torment me about my car?"

She got in, driving out and away. Vincent walked over to the garage door, having neighbours eye him from across the street. Barely regarding them, he pulled the door down. Meanwhile, Ellen was talking with Debbie on the Johnson's porch when they spotted Riley leaving, with men inside her garage.

"My, oh my! Riley has guests!"

"_You_ have guests all the time, Ellen."

"I know but...those men don't look like they're from around this area at all."

Debbie tapped a finger on her bottom lip in thought. "Indeed. That one seemed to appear quite handsome, even if his appearance is questionable." There was a silence between them before Debbie suddenly decided to stroll over.

"Debbie! What are you doing?"

"To introduce myself. What does it look like I'm doing?" Her heels clicked on the stone walkway, carrying her to the front door before she used the door knocker. A moment later, she was pleased with getting an answer.

Vincent opened the door, arching a brow. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but I'm Deborah Johnson, but you may call me Debbie. I'm Miss Willows' neighbour across the street."

"And?"

Ellen soon joined beside Debbie. "We were worried about Riley. We hadn't seen her come out in days and we were wondering if she's alright."

Vincent leaned against the door frame. "She's fine. In fact, I recall you watching her leave in her car moments ago. As for why she hasn't been out, she's been busy entertaining us."

"Entertaining?" Debbie mirrored.

"Us?" Ellen asked.

Cid came into view, blinking. "Vince! Who's at the door?"

"Riley's neighbours," he answered.

Cid came stomping up beside Vincent, looking the women over. "...You got tea?"

Debbie's lip quivered, rather offended by the blonde in every aspect. She hated Texans, especially ones that looked like drunks. Ellen chirped suddenly, "Yes! I've got lots of tea blends! Would you like for me to bring some over?"

Cid looked as if he was suddenly in heaven. "You serious? You have tea?" Cid grasped her hands in his as if his prayers had been answered. "I'm seriously considering proposing to you right now!"

"Oh ho ho!" Debbie rolled her eyes at Ellen's reaction. "Unfortunately for you, I'm happily married! Just give me a few moments to grab some of them for you."

"God bless you, Mrs...?"

"Just Ellen is fine, dear," she giggled, skipping off to her house.

Vincent gave Cid a look. "You happy now?"

"Yes." Cid could only grin.

Vincent chuckled as Cid ran off to the kitchen to get the kettle ready. He looked at Debbie. "Where are you from exactly, Mr. Vince?"

"All over the place," he replied, shifting his weight a little.

She walked in front of him like a small pace, looking him over. "You're not a bad looking young man. Are you Miss Willows' boyfriend, perhaps?"

He half-laughed, "No. I'm—we're just family friends moving in, helping her out."

"I see. Are you handymen then?"

"Something like that."

She nodded. "Is that..._in_ nowadays?" she asked, referring to his hair.

He blinked, pulling at his own hair in consideration. "I wouldn't know. I just haven't cut it in years."

"You should probably have that dealt with. You're more likely to bring in the young ladies if you have it shortened considerably."

He arched a brow. "Indeed."

"Have a good day, Mr. Vince." And with that, she strolled off.

He watched her leave, not even realizing that Cid was standing beside him again, watching Mrs. Johnson's behind. "I've seen better."

Vincent snorted just as Ellen came jogging up the steps with a small bag. "Here you go, dear!"

"God bless you, woman. Let _me_ know if you need anything!"

She giggled. "I will. I must be getting back, lots of laundry to do. Bye bye, gentlemen!"

Cid only grinned and waved and blinked at Vincent's look. "What?"

"Sometimes you're too easy to please."

"I am not!"

* * *

><p>Riley came home when her 'curfew' was almost up, opening the garage and parking in there before bringing in tons of bags. Barret blinked. "Need help?"<p>

"Nope! I'm good! What's that smell?"

"Tea."

"How'd he get tea?"

"Your neighbour."

"You talked to the neighbour?"

"Cid and Vincent did. Two ladies came knocking."

Vincent walked in. "Something wrong with us talking to people?"

Riley shook her head in disbelief, mumbling, "Laying low, my ass. What'd you talk about?"

"They introduced themselves, Cid harassed them about tea, and...Ellen brought some over. They also asked about you and why you haven't been out in the last few days."

Riley's eyes narrowed at Vincent. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but what did you tell them?"

"To quote, you were too busy entertaining us."

"You—I can't believe you said it that way! This is _Suburbia_ and you say it like that? They're going to think I'm boinking three guys!"

Cid came in with a mug of tea, looking calmer than normal as he sipped at it before mumbling, "With a vibrator in your night table drawer, can you blame them for thinking so?"

"A LOT OF WOMEN OWN VIBRATORS, YOU DOLT!"

"Enough," Vincent cut in. "Did you get what we asked for?"

She huffed, forcing herself to calm down. "Yes." She handed one full bag to each of them. "One for you, one for you, and one for the boob here."

"Who you calling a boob!"

"You, boob," she retorted. She grabbed other bags, putting groceries away. She then pulled out a dinner plate set of square plates.

"Plates?" Vincent enquired.

"The boob broke one."

"I cleaned it up!"

She snorted then grimaced. "When was the last time any of you have had a shower?"

"A few days," Vincent admitted. "That's why we asked for towels and bath products."

"Shower's mine first," Cid declared, grabbing his bag and walking off to the upstairs main bathroom.

Vincent looked over at Barret. "You can go next."

"Alright."

He then returned his glance to Riley. "Thank you."

"Shut up. I only did it because I uphold my word."

"All the same." He paused. "How are you with scissors?"

She blinked in surprised. "What do you mean?"

"I need a haircut."

Now she was baffled. "I...suppose I'm okay with them. You mean now?"

"It's only logical before a shower."

She inhaled deeply before going upstairs and coming back down with hair scissors. Vincent had already set up a chair, sitting on it backwards with his arms resting on the back. Riley found a black garbage bag and cut a hole in the bottom before putting it on Vincent. Taking a comb from Vincent's new stuff, she began going through all the tangles.

"Was there any particular style you wanted?"

"It doesn't matter, I just need it shorter."

"Wouldn't it be more simple if you just shaved it off then?"

He smiled. "Trust me, I don't look good bald. Besides, if I decide to go out in public with you, you wouldn't want me embarrassing you with the hipster look, now would you?"

"I could care less what you look like—wait, Debbie said something, didn't she?"

"She might have."

"You wanted a haircut because of _that_ bitch?" She shook her head. "I figured you had more self respect than that."

"It wasn't because of her. The police are looking for a convict with long hair."

"Uh huh," she said disbelievingly. "Anyway, I wouldn't call it a hipster look. It's more...grunge."

"Grunge," he repeated.

"Most guys look terrible with long hair. Somehow though, you manage to pull it off."

"You should see me with leather pants."

She grimaced. "You're going too far." Snipping could be heard, locks of raven hair falling to the kitchen floor. "You ever gonna tell me why you were in jail?"

"I've killed a lot of people. Let's leave it at that."

Riley paused, then shook off the discomfort. "Why would you want to go out in public with me anyway?"

"I got my own errands to run, and I need to keep an eye on you."

"I guess distrust swings both ways."

"Indeed." He resisted the urge to shiver when her fingers brushed his neck. "Why'd you buy a house on the verge of being condemned?

"I had money, it was cheap, and I wanted to put money and effort into it."

"Like an arts and crafts project."

"Exactly."

A silence hung between them, the only sound being the snips of scissors. Barret had long been gone, having taken the bathroom when Cid finished, who was now in the living room, pouring himself another cup of tea. Riley shook out the bag, letting loose hair fly off to the floor. The weight on Vincent's head gradually getting lighter with each snip.

"Can I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

She hesitated, "Were you actually going to kill me those times you threatened me with the gun?"

He didn't answer at first, and it unnerved her with each passing second. His answer actually startled her, having forgotten about it after awhile. "No."

"And yet you've killed a lot of people."

"It was necessary at the time." His tone had changed from something that seemed normal, then cold and distant. "If you don't mind, I'd rather not talk about this anymore."

She said nothing, but understood. Everyone had their secrets, especially her. Finishing with the back, she moved in front of him, her chest right in his direct line of sight. "Don't get used to the view," was all she said with mild tone.

"There isn't much to look at—ow!" He rubbed his head, looking up at her. His comment had caused her to hit him across the head.

"Keep talking. I dare ya!"

He chuckled, "You don't seem the type who's easily offended. I'm sorry."

"No you're not," she declared, but didn't seem all that bothered now, resuming her task.

"I was joking anyway."

"Har har. You don't strike me as the type to joke. Oh wait, you are," she rambled on sarcastically. Some part of her was still bitter about the trick he pulled a few nights ago.

"You're mad," he pointed out.

"No...really?" Before he could say anything, she stepped back. "Not bad if I do say so myself. I'm done. I'm going to do something productive now."

He watched her leave, running fingers through his hair before standing up and removing the bag. Barret walked in, towel around his neck. "Bathroom's free."

Vincent nodded, grabbing his stuff and going upstairs, barely glancing down the hallway towards Riley's room. Stepping inside humidity, he wiped the mirror dry, looking over his new look. His hair was mostly short in the back, and he had layered bangs framing his eyes and face. Somehow the hairstyle brought back memories of his younger days. Granted, he was still young to some degree, but some days, he just felt old. Right now, he felt old. Tomorrow, he had some extreme searching to do.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Lots of dialogue in this chapter. I apologize. For those who may wonder why I've made Vincent's eyes brown instead of his natural red. Because this is an alternate universe, though it's meant to reflect our world, and in our world, I've never heard of a person having naturally red eyes. Just for argument's sake, his eyes in this story are the colour of red wine brown. Oh dear god, what have I done to Vincent this time? I butchered his hair! I wonder what's worse, taking his left leg in RoC, or his luscious black locks in House Arrest. Probably the former, but...his hair! D: And now I shall ramble on about why I've used Riley again. I'd rather recycle a previous OC love interest, than come up with a new one. It seems weird to me, honestly. Also, apparently a lot of people can relate to Riley as well, granted, I changed SOME of her characteristics for the sake of this story, but not much. At least I don't think so. I'm tired, me sleep now. Please R&R, goodnight.


	5. CH5 Going Out

**House Arrest**

**Disclaimer:**_ All Final Fantasy VII related characters and ideas are copyright to Square-Enix, and only them. Any other characters are copyright to the author._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five – Going Out<strong>

Riley abruptly sat up in bed, panting as she stared at the wall in front of her. Tears threatened to come out before she covered her face. A bad memory, that's all it was. She removed the covers, heading downstairs into the kitchen to look through the fridge. Taking out orange juice, she drank from the carton greedily. When she was satisfied, she put it back in the fridge. Now that she was feeling awake and restless, she went into the living room, seeing a couple of the guys sleeping on the floor. It was still dark out, she noticed as she grabbed a measuring tape, and a notepad with a pen. She began measuring the whole house, writing it down as she went.

By the time she was finished two of the floors, she dreaded the basement. Basements were always crawling with cobwebs and spiders and ants, and other creepy things. She hated creepy. Still, if Riley was going to allow those criminals to stay, it'd give them somewhere to sleep. She chortled to herself about the idea of a dungeon before her thoughts were interrupted.

"What are you doing up?"

Riley looked over at a clean-shaven Vincent. He didn't look half-bad once he cleaned up, but he was still an ass. "Plotting," she said mysteriously.

He arched a brow. "A way to turn us in?"

"You're not worth the effort anymore. I was talking about the house. Though I was considering turning the basement into a makeshift dungeon for you three."

His brow remained arched. "I had no idea you were into all that. Now I'm starting to wonder if you actually like being cuffed to a bed."

That completely backfired on her. "What?" Her face went red. "N-no! You're a perverted moron! Why do men automatically assume the dirtiest thing?"

"Because we're men," he replied. "It's as simple as that. You should go back to sleep. We're leaving early."

"We are? Where are we going?"

"Is there a library in town?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Usually every town and city has a library."

He nodded. "Alright. Be up by 8, we're leaving at 9." He left her be, and she sighed, rubbing her tired eyes. She had things to do in town anyway.

* * *

><p>Cid was eating cereal again, and having his precious tea. Barret was making breakfast by the time Riley came downstairs. "Where's Vincent?"<p>

"He's in the garage waiting," Cid replied with a full mouth.

"Don't speak with your mouth full, boob."

He flipped her the bird as Barret addressed her. "Why are you dressed like that?"

Riley looked at herself, dressed in black dress pants and a simple white pressed blouse with three-quarter sleeves and black loafer-like heels. Her hair was done up in woven bun, with some hair hanging down her neck. "Someone used to tell me one should always dress nice when going out and look for a job."

"You look good."

"Thank you, Barret. Mind if I steal your bacon?" Grabbing a fork, she stabbed a couple of strips out of the pan before munching them. "I'm off. Don't burn the house down." She walked into the garage, spotting Vincent sitting in the driver's seat with the door open, fidgeting with the radio. "Out," she demanded.

"I'm driving."

"No you're not. It's my car, and for all I know, you probably don't even have a license. Out."

Since she had a point, he got out of her seat, pulling the garage door down when she pulled out. Slipping into the shotgun seat, he resumed fidgeting with the radio. "Does this thing have no reception?"

"I'm working on it. I need a job before I can do any refurbishing."

He glanced at her. "How do you have any money at all?"

She hesitated, "Inheritance. Nothing spectacular so I've been trying to be sparse, thus the lack of furniture."

"Who died?" She slammed on the breaks, his head nearly banging on the dashboard. "Jesus Christ!"

"Get out."

"What?"

"I said get out. I'm sure you can find your way to town."

"Hey, I was only—"

"No! If you want to strike up a conversation with me, mind your own damn business when doing so!"

"Alright! ...Alright," he repeated, hands up in defence as if it would calm her down. "I'm sorry. That was insensitive of me. I won't bring it up again." He watched her cautiously. If he pissed her off again while she was driving, chances were they would end up getting in an accident. "Let's just go to town, and forget I ever said anything."

She nothing for a moment, brushing her bangs back with a shaky hand. He assumed it was from being furious, but it was more than that. Rather than say anything at all, she just put the car in drive, both of them silent for the entire ride. Getting to town, she asked for directions to the nearest library. Once there, Vincent got out then peered inside at her, who still looked pretty mad.

"I may be all morning. Just pick me up at 1."

"Fine."

Before he could apologize again, she drove off, nearly taking his hands in the process. He sighed, walking into the library. Stepping inside, he walked up to the front desk. The librarian looked up from checking books in. "Welcome. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yes, I'm doing research for a college paper. I was hoping you had some newspaper scans."

The woman stood up. "We might have some. What are you researching?"

"Renowned scientists," he said.

"Anyone in particular?"

"One. Professor Gast Faremis."

"Hm, don't think I've heard of him, but we might have some clippings and books on him."

He sat at one of those machines where one turns a dial, looking through old newspaper scans. The librarian disappeared for a little bit once he gave her a general state and time period. She came back five minutes later, giving him everything they had, which was a whole box.

"Will this do?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Let me know if you need anything else."

She left him alone for the time being, and he spent hours scouring the articles till his eyes spotted a name he had not spoken or heard in a long time. "Lucrecia..."

He exhaled, remembering the woman fondly. Her luscious brown locks, her twinkling hazel eyes...her smile. Gazing at her picture on the article, it was obvious that she was considered a beautiful woman. A smart one at that. Dr. Crescent, a scientist devoting herself to the study of life. Back when he knew her, he admired her so much, he even dared to admit he loved her. However...

_Vincent was on his knees, cradling Lucrecia, her limp body completely cold in his arms. By the time he got to the lab to confront Hojo, she was already dead. "No...Lucrecia, you can't be gone." He gritted his teeth in anguish, trying to warm her body by holding her close, as if the embrace would bring her back._

"_It's too late, boy! Your beloved Dr. Crescent is gone. Another failed experiment, I say."_

_Vincent shook with rage, muttering, "You bastard."_

_He raised his firearm, yelling out with fury as he released an onslaught of bullets. Hojo recoiled from every bullet entering his flesh, stepping back from each one till he backed up into a tank. The impact of both his body and the spray of bullets had caused the glass to crack, then shatter, water and glass spilling onto the floor. Vincent dropped the gun, touching Lucrecia's face like a lover would. His eyes were empty, his face vacant, and his heart ached something unbearable. After today, if he should live, his heart would grow cold, and he wouldn't feel anything ever again._

Vincent's eyes snapped open. He leaned back in his chair, expressionless. Sighing, he looked at the article one last time, reading it through before continuing onto the next one.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, while Vincent was doing whatever research he was doing, Riley walked into the Breath of the Earth flower shop, looking around. She was greeted by a woman with light brown hair put in a bun and blue eyes, wearing a green dress with an apron.<p>

"Hello, welcome to Breath of the Earth. My name is Elmyra. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"I thought this was Aerith's flower shop."

She smiled. "You're right, don't worry. She and I run this place. She's just gone out to get some breakfast at the bakery. I'm her step-mother. Are you a friend of hers?"

"We met recently. I'm job searching and she said I could stop by."

"Oh, she did? Well, do you have a resume?"

"I do, but I'm afraid I don't have any experience with gardening," she admitted, pulling out a resume for Elmyra to look at.

The older woman looked it over. "Well, we can train you, no problem. Aerith and I would be dealing with all the merchandise and arrangements anyway, however, we'd only be able to hire you for weekend shifts. We get quite a bit of business but we're not very busy."

"I don't mind. I can always look for a second job."

"Then you're hired."

Riley blinked. "Really?"

Elmyra chuckled, "You can start this Saturday. How does 10 AM sound to you?"

"That sounds great! Thanks so much!"

The door opening caused a bell to jingle and Aerith's voice rang out. "Good morning Riley!"

Riley turned around with a big grin. "Hey Aerith! Your mother here just hired me."

"That's great! Can't wait to start working with you."

"Same here."

"Would you like to stay and have breakfast with us? I just came from the bakery and I always buy more than two people can handle."

"Ha ha, no thanks. I still have some things to do this morning. Besides, I'm stopping by the diner."

"Oh, tell Tifa I said hello for me."

"Will do, see ya later." And she left, doing a small victory jig on the sidewalk, ignoring the stares sent her way. It was about time she got hired! Now to look for that second job. Walking to the diner, she was instantly greeted by Tifa. "Hey."

"Hey back. I'll be with you in a moment. Morning has been crazy!" Riley stood there while waiting, seeing that the house was full. Busy indeed. She couldn't believe she was going to try to apply here. Tifa came up to her, nearly panting. "I haven't seen or heard from you in days."

Riley frowned slightly. "I've been busy lately. Sorry, meant to call."

"That's alright. So, what's up?"

"Is that job offer still on the table?"

"It sure is. Here, I'll take you to the back to see the manager."

"He's in?"

"He's the cook," she said.

"Oh..."

"Zangan says he's looking for more waitresses anyway. Summertime is usually the worst because it's so busy."

"I see. I can only work on weekdays. I got a job at Aerith's shop for the weekends." Tifa nodded.

* * *

><p>Riley talked with Zangan, instantly hired because he was desperate for more employees. Granted, she wasn't happy with the idea of serving food, but it was better than not having a job. Now that she had two, she could relax a little as some money would now be rolling in. It was getting close to noon now, and she had done a little window shopping at a Home Depot, getting a few paint swatches and a catalogue. Deciding on lunch, she went for the nearest fast food restaurant, going straight to Subway. Checking her watch, she still had time before she would have to pick up Vincent. Unfortunately, she was bored.<p>

Licking her fingers of mayonnaise, she got up from the bench, going straight to where she parked her car. Parking in the library's lot, she got out and ventured inside. She peered around, not seeing Vincent, so she wandered through the library till she found barely found him, having not recognized him at first. She still wasn't used to his shorter hairstyle.

She spoke as she strolled up behind him, "Did you find what you were looking for?"

He was so keen on what he was focused on, that he nearly drew his weapon hidden in his coat. He relaxed, realizing who it was. "I could have shot you."

"And then you'd be arrested. Well?"

He looked at the latest article he was on. "Not yet. I'm looking for someone, and the bastard is impossible to find."

"And you're looking at newspapers? How do you expect to find someone in those?"

"I'm not looking for him specifically, I'm looking for someone else who might know where he is."

"And who would that be?"

"Not that you'll be any help, but it's Gast Faremis."

"And people say I'm weird because I have a name that sounds like it belongs to a boy. Now, rather than look at stupid old clippings, why don't you look on the internet like everybody else?"

"Because I'll be flagged the moment I look up his name. Despite what all civilians think, nobody is completely secure on the net. They track every keystroke, every click, everything. They know when someone is looking at porn, and when they download a movie or song."

"Okay, I get the picture. Sheesh. Can we go now? I'm done everything I needed to do today."

He sighed. "I suppose. I'm not finding anything today. I'll have to come back every day."

"I see. You're still not driving my car."

"That isn't a car."

"Well, luckily for you, I'm going to work everyday, so you'll still have a ride. Now let's go home, my feet are beginning to hurt."

He looked up at her. "Where do you work?"

"I'm going to be a diner waitress starting tomorrow, and florist-in-training starting Saturday."

He arched a brow. "Those two occupations don't seem to suit you at all. Then again, I'm sure we'll all look forward to seeing you in a pink skirt and apron."

"It's not pink! It's...lightish red. Yeah." She covered her face and expelled an annoyed sigh, looking up. "Just shut up and let's go before I smack you over the head with the biggest book in this library." He only chuckled, getting to his feet before leaving with her.

* * *

><p>They got home and Riley was looking through the swatches she got. Cid and Barret gathered with Vincent in the kitchen. "Did you find anything?"<p>

"Nothing, just an article on Dr. Crescent."

They both blinked. "That's it?"

"The library didn't have a lot of microfilm for me to go through. I've looked for Gast all over the place, but nothing."

Barret crossed his arms. "We might have to resort to more reliable sources."

Vincent shook his head. "No, we do that, we're dead."

"What do we do then, Vince?"

"I'll be going back to the library. I probably overlooked something."

Riley walked in, completely ignoring them as she picked up the phone. "Yes, I like an inspection done—"

All three went rigid. "Hey!"

She waved her hand at them. "Shush! Sorry. Yeah, my name is Riley Willows. I have no idea how old the house is. I bought it recently..." They relaxed, realizing what inspection she was talking about. When she finished, she hung up. "You guys are doing me a favour."

"We are?"

"Since I'll be working from now on, and Mr. Leader here is going to the library everyday, you two need to let the house inspector in and let him look around. He's coming in this Friday at 11 AM. I'll be giving you money to give to him when he's done. I expect you to either write down EVERYTHING he says, or remember it."

"Why should I do that for you?"

"No problem, girl."

"Thanks Barret."

"Damn fool! Why are you always taking her side?"

"Because you're always disagreeable."

"Well, since she's giving away money, she should buy us some beer."

Riley sneered at him. "I'm not having drunks in my house. Anyway, Barret, would you like to help me choose some colours for the house?" she asked sweetly.

"Sure thing."

Cid's jaw dropped as the two of them left. He looked at Vincent. "No respect, I tell ya!"

Vincent only chuckled. "Drink your tea."

* * *

><p>It was late and half the people in the house were asleep. The other half was either cleaning and checking weapons, or taking a shower. Riley finished up and dressed up in clean pyjamas and a white sweater. She brushed out her damp hair before setting her alarm for 7 AM, her <em>pink<em> uniform hung up on the bathroom door. Wondering if anyone was still awake, she ventured downstairs, finding Vincent in the living room, using the unpacked boxes as makeshift tables for laying down weapons. The image didn't startle her as much as she had expected. It felt more surreal to find that sort of thing in her house.

Sensing she was there, Vincent looked up at her. "Something wrong?" She didn't say anything, just stared at the weaponry. "Do these bother you?"

She shook her head. "No, not really. I just find it strange to see them this close. I've never actually seen a real gun before you guys took over my house."

"I see." He looked at the guns he had finished with. "Guns have been part of my life since my early teens."

She walked in, sitting on the other side of the boxes. She was surprised he was only using an oil lamp to light the room. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-seven. So, about...twelve or thirteen years."

"That's a long time."

"It is. Normally when I do maintenance on weapons, I usually fancy a glass of red wine."

"Why?"

He thought it over. "I don't know. Ritual I guess. Some people have their routines."

She chewed on her bottom lip before standing up, leaving him for a moment. She came back with a bottle and two wine glasses, which surprised him. "Wouldn't want to break that routine, now would we. Just don't get drunk and start shooting up the place."

"Where were you hiding that?"

"The cupboard above the fridge. I don't drink, but I bought it for the sake of celebratory purposes for when the house is finished."

He smiled. "You seriously don't drink. If I didn't know any better, I'd dub you the biggest square in existence."

"You're calling me a square?" Riley gaped at him. "I'm no square."

He took the bottle, looking at the label. "Not a bad year." He popped it open with his bare hand, letting it breathe before pouring a little in each glass. "It's been awhile since I've had some liquor. In jail, you lose quite a few luxuries."

She took a glass, swirling the liquid a little. "What's jail like?"

He inhaled the contents. "Prison isn't for the feint of heart. If one is a pushover, you're going to be miserable in there. For those like me, you forget you're even in prison. The only reminder being the orange jumpsuit and and chains they slap on your wrists and ankles."

She only watched him. "Is it like the movies where they bend you over and make you their girlfriends?"

He shrugged. "I was always in solitary. Barret or Cid would be able to tell you. I assume it does happen. Men can only last so long without a release."

Just for curiosity's sake, she had to ask, "When was the last time you had a release?"

He half-laughed at that, "Awhile. I was in prison for three years, so...about four."

"Ouch."

"Imagine how the rest of the convicts are feeling at the moment." Taking the first sip, he contemplated the taste before looking at Riley. "So...are you a virgin, or have you seen some action?"

She visibly blushed, taking a tentative sip. It wasn't half-bad, so she sampled another. "Just after high school."

"I'm surprised you don't have a boyfriend."

"I was never really interested in dating. My step-dad was glad for it though. I've had a few relationships, but none of them serious. The last couple were probably just for sex."

"What about college?"

"Barely went to college. I was only there for a year before graduation. I couldn't decide on what I wanted to do with my life, but I was content helping my dad out. Though...I did have a small...experiment when I was at college. Very small."

"What experiment?"

She blushed. "It was a new experience...with another girl."

Vincent coughed on his next sip. "Wow." He actually never suspected her of having a lesbian experience. "That's...interesting to know. So, what are you?"

"Straight. Definitely straight, and single, and unavailable."

"I'm actually relieved thanks to that." She gave him a look. "What would your nonexistent boyfriend think of you living with three grown men?"

"I wouldn't call you 'grown men.'"

"What would you call us then?"

"The three stooges." She grinned, taking another sip.

He scoffed. "Well then, what are you?"

"Their mother, since I'm being told to go shopping for three useless men."

He placed an empty glass down. He felt more relaxed than he would normally allow himself. Perhaps Riley was beginning to trust him a little since they were chatting like old friends would. Vincent barely trusted Riley enough to let her run around and do her daily business. The other night, she had startled him by asking about whether or not he was actually going to kill her. His answer had shocked him even more. He had killed women before, so why should this one be any different? Killing meant nothing to him. Granted, ever since he met Lucrecia, his attitude on life in general had changed. It was when she died that he reverted back to his old self, or so he thought. Though, he always tried to avoid killing an innocent. Still, it wasn't like he was interested in Riley. In fact, far from it. Okay, so she intrigued him to some extent, but that was because she wasn't a typical woman, and that alone made her interesting. She also wasn't helpless, which made him respect her to some degree.

"It's not like you're our slave. In a way, you have your freedom back."

"If you call having conditions freedom, sure. Be thankful I haven't turned you three in when I had the chance—twice."

"Why haven't you?"

Pondering over her answer, she replied, "Why turn in people who let you go? Why turn in men who, technically, never physically harmed you? Why turn in those you know nothing about? Why turn your back on those who clearly need help? I don't really know why to be honest." He just listened intently as she took another sip. "Instinct told me to forgive you. After all, Barret is a nice guy, Cid's a moron, and an ass, but I suppose it's refreshing to have someone to fight with. You're not so bad either."

"I assure you, I'm a very bad man."

She choked, spotting his slight smirk. "Was that a flirtation?"

He chuckled, "No. Just stating facts." He corked the bottle as she finished her glass. "You have work tomorrow, correct?" She nodded. "It's getting late then. You should go to sleep."

Nodding once more, she reached out for his glass, but recoiled, figuring he would have another drink or two. "You're right. Who knows how exhausted I'll be after the first day." She stood up, walking off, placing her glass on the kitchen counter after rinsing it. Before heading up the stairs, she looked over her shoulder at him. "Good night."

He watched her leave. "Good night," he mirrored, rubbing his face afterwards. _Bloody hell._

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Hooray, the fifth chapter, w00t! According to FFWikia, Lucrecia has chocolate brown eyes, but I looked at her CG render for FFVII and saw they had a green tint to them, so I made them hazel. Not that it matters, Lucrecia's actually dead in this story. HOORAY, DEATH TO LUCRECIA. I hate her. A lot. As for Barret, I realized how OOC he is in this story, but I'm justifying it with the fact that he's just sweet on women and he hasn't lost his right arm, so his personality is a little different. I can't see a big guy like that NOT being a total sweetie, especially to Riley. It's too bad I can't bring Nanaki into this story, unless I make him a humanoid...native boy or something, which isn't going to happen. Sorry Red Fans. On a random note...I just painted my nails, alternating between a rich dark purple and light blue. Also, chocolate milk is awesome. And I think there's a spider in my room. D: Please R&R, thanks a bunch.


	6. CH6 Reaching Out

**House Arrest**

**Disclaimer:**_ All Final Fantasy VII related characters and ideas are copyright to Square-Enix, and only them. Any other characters are copyright to the author._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six – Reaching Out<strong>

An exhausted sigh was let out a month after Riley had gotten the two jobs. She would spend Monday to Friday working 9 to 3 shifts that were almost always busy. On the weekend, her shifts lasted from 10 to 5 on both days. Thankfully, her job as a part-time florist was mundane enough, that it was actually relaxing, and the closest thing she'd have to a day off. Regardless, she was getting paid enough to barely stay on top of her expenses. One of those expenses being the three men living in her house. Unfortunately, she'd never get the money she needed to renovate the house. Apparently the house inspector was shocked that there was even any clean water running through those pipes, among other things.

As for Vincent, he'd been busy going to the library everyday like he said he would, scrutinizing every possible lead he could sniff out. Nothing came up. He was just as frustrated as Riley at this point. Deciding he needed a break, he gave up for the day, heading for the diner Riley mentioned she worked at. The smell of grease and french fries soaking in frying oil filled his nostrils the moment he walked in the door. He stood in the doorway, watching as customers laughed and chatted away while waitresses in pink dress uniforms and matching hats wound their way through the aisles, carrying over a quarter dozen plates in their arms.

His eyes landed on who he thought was Riley at first, but the woman's hair was darker and longer. Her bosom was also much larger. Taking another gander around the restaurant, he finally spotted her serving a couple of rednecks some coffee. She was putting on a smiling mask for the customers, but he knew she was exhausted by this point. Still, something about her smile stirred something in him. As Riley walked away to get more plates to serve, Tifa approached him.

"Hi there! Feel free to sit wherever you like, sir."

"No thanks, I'm just here to visit an employee."

Tifa watched him thoughtfully. "Riley?"

"How'd you know?"

"Wild guess. Riley said she had some roommates in her house."

"Ah, is that what she calls us?"

"Apparently. She'll be going on break in five minutes," she said while walking away.

"Thanks." Despite what he said, he sat down at the counter.

Riley was soon behind the counter, making more coffee to fill the pot before grasping a washcloth to clean the counter before she blinked. "Vincent? What are you doing here?"

"Came to see how you were holding up?"

This claim startled her somewhat. "I...I'm fine, just surprised to see you here."

"You look tired."

"I am tired," she said with an exhausted sigh.

He looked at the diner's clock hanging behind her. "Only three more hours to go."

"Longest three hours of my life," she muttered in complaint.

He watched her quietly as she resumed wiping down the counter and machines. "Give me the keys."

"What? No way!"

"Riley, I'm going home. Also, you're obviously tired and won't be in any condition to drive, so I'll come back and pick you up."

She hesitated before reaching into her dress pouch of a pocket. "Just don't make my car explode or something."

"Have you no faith in my skills as a driver?"

"I've never experienced your driving."

"Oh, that's right. You will though."

"That's...a frightening thought."

He chuckled, grasping the keys when she handed them over. "It'll be fine. I'll be back in a few hours."

"Yeah, yeah." She waved at him dismissively.

He stood up, ready to leave. "Continue the good work."

"Bite me."

He couldn't help the amused smirk, leaving for home after finding out where she parked. Because he wasn't used to the vehicle, it took a few tries to get it to start. Soon he was on his way home, pulling into the driveway. Going in the house, he was surprised to smell cigarettes. Hunting down Cid, he found the blonde in the dining room, unimpressed to find him smoking.

"Put that out, Cid."

He looked over. "Eh? Why are you home early?" Seeing the look on Vincent's face while being given no answer, Cid reluctantly put out cancer stick. "Bloody hell..."

"It's already been made clear on countless occasions that you were not to smoke in the house."

"She's not here! Is she?"

"She's still working. Be thankful she's even bothering to buy you any."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Where's Barret?"

"He's either taking a nap, or a shit."

There was a moment of silence. "I didn't need to know that."

"You asked. Now, I ask again. Why are you home early?"

Vincent took a seat in one of the chairs, waving a hand in front of his face to rid of the cigarette fumes. "Gave up for the day. I'm getting nowhere with this search. So, I took Riley's keys and came home." He looked at Cid. "Have you been doing this every time we're out?"

"What? The smoking in the house?" Vincent nodded. "Maybe."

"What'd you do to keep Barret quiet?"

"Believe me, he always bitches at me for it." He watched Vincent for awhile, who looked to be in deep thought before he added, "Barret said he's gonna contact this lass he knows. Like me, she's an explosives expert, but she also does some major hacking or some shit like that. Because she owes Wallace a couple of favours, she's gonna make us some new ID's and whatnot. Driver's license, passports, you name it."

"I see. I think I know which woman you're talking about." Vincent rubbed his face. "That's good actually. Only thing he has to be careful about is where he makes the phone call."

"You have a plan in mind?"

"Not a plan per se. I'm just thinking we're not making things much easier on Riley."

Cid's eyes narrowed, watching his raven-headed friend. "You're not getting sweet on the girl, are ya?"

Vincent blinked blearily at Cid, as if snapping out of his thoughts. "What?"

Cid pointed at Vincent, elbow resting on the table. "I hope you haven't forgotten the fact we can't trust her. Sure, she's kept her mouth shut about us, but as far as I can tell, she could turn us in at any time. All I've got to go on is your damn instinct, and if memory serves, that nearly got us killed last time because you were all in a daze about that scientist, Lucrecia."

Vincent's own eyes narrowed as he listened. "I assure you, that will not become an issue again."

"It better not, otherwise, I'll put an end to the problem before it starts." Cid leaned back in his chair, a heavy atmosphere in the room. "Now, what's this about Riley?"

He just sat there, letting Cid's words sink in. "We need jobs."

"Wait, what?"

"Jobs, Cid. Riley is the only one in this house with income. She's barely able to support herself anymore, let alone us." He paused before quickly adding, "She won't be much use to us if she collapses from exhaustion. That and we can earn our own funds for whenever we need to leave in a hurry."

The blonde considered, rubbing his lower face and scratching his chin. "You have a point. Alright, I'll let the big guy know."

"Good. Now, clean up this room. It smells like shit in here thanks to your bad habit. I'm having a shower before going back to pick her up."

Cid simply found a can of air freshener, spraying it around the room before opening a window. Vincent went upstairs, spotting Barret in a spare bedroom taking a nap on the floor. Turning on the the bathroom light, he stripped, took his shower, then stood before the mirror with a towel around his hips, wiping down the surface. He scratched his own chin, deciding to let it grow out to solidify his disguise further rather than take the time to shave. He went into a third bedroom, grabbing clothes from the closet. He only put on a simple pair of black jeans and a dark blue button up shirt with a white tank top underneath. He rolled up the sleeves, slipped on black boots, and headed out the door.

* * *

><p>Riley was sitting outside on the curb of the diner's parking lot by the time he got there, the back of her skirt tucked between her legs while she rested her head on her knees. Vincent pulled up close to her, waiting for her to get in but she didn't move from her spot. Honking the horn, she was startled and now alert, looking up.<p>

"Abuh?"

"Get in," was all he said.

Sighing, she opened the car door and practically crawled into the seat, closing the door. Once she fastened her seat belt, he began driving home, only taking a glance at her every now and then. By the time they got home, she was fast asleep, which surprised him. Getting out of the car, he moved to her side, opening the door. He was about to shake her awake but stopped before he would touch her, thinking better of it. Instead, he unbuckled her, hooking his arms under her knees and back before shutting the door with his foot. Somehow, he managed to open the front door while holding her, shutting that door the same way. Cid walked in, arching a brow, to which Vincent only shook his head before carrying the girl upstairs.

Riley stirred slightly, not opening her eyes as she mumbled, "Where are we...? Are we home?"

"Yeah, we're home," he whispered while on the stairs.

"Oh...are you carrying me?"

"Yeah, I am."

"To bed?"

"Mmhm." He was starting to find her sleepy mumbling sort of cute as the small conversation went on. "I thought I'd do you a favour for once."

"Oh...okay. Nighty night." And with that, she was out like a light.

He chuckled softly before putting her in bed. Gently, he slipped off her shoes before lifting her head to let her hair loose. Covering her with the comforter, he kept his hand there, watching her sleep for a moment. A moment was all it took for him to realize he had to force himself away. Shutting the door quietly, he stood there briefly. He shook his head and went downstairs. He found both Cid and Barret in the living room.

"Barret, Cid said you were calling in a couple of favours to Jessie."

"Yeah, man, what about it?"

"You'll have to call it in tomorrow when you come with us to town tomorrow. We need this done as soon as possible. When you call her, make plans on when and where to meet."

"Alright."

"Cid," Vincent began, "don't smoke in the house anymore. Also, you're good with machines. Make something."

Cid could only blink as Vincent walked away. "Like what? And _with_ what, I might add?"

* * *

><p>Next day, Vincent dropped off Riley before going around town with Barret, looking for a payphone. Finding one at a gas station, Barret made the call while Vincent sat on the hood of the car, crossing his arms like he usually did. Barret just waited for the call to go through, hoping he had enough change for the long distance charge.<p>

Finally, after five rings, the phone was picked up. "Hello?"

"Jessie, it's me."

"...Barret? Jesus, is that really you? I can't believe it!"

"Yeah, I know. Listen, I need a favour." The conversation went on for another five minutes before Barret walked over to Vincent. "It's done. She's coming here by tomorrow evening. We've got to meet her at this gas station here."

"Alright, let's get back home."

Barret was about to get into the car when he felt something small bump his leg. He looked down, seeing a little girl with brown hair and eyes. She looked up, an ice cream drumstick in her hand, which she accidentally smeared over the back of Barret's pants.

She whimpered slightly, looking oh so cute as well as apologetic. He looked at his pants, then at her eyes. How could he resist a face so sweet. "Aw, don't cry. It ain't no thing." He crouched in front of her as her lip quivered. "What's your name?"

"Marlene..."

"It's nice to meet you, Marlene. Where's your mom?"

"I don't have a mommy. She's in heaven. I live with other kids in an orphanage."

He blinked, looking over at the group of children she was pointing at. Among them was a couple of who he thought were orphanage managers and supervisors, possibly taking kids out for treats. He looked back at Marlene.

"Well, go back to your friends, Marlene. Better not worry them."

"Okay, mister." She smiled, running off.

He chuckled, wiping off the melting ice cream off his pants before getting in the car. Vincent just arched a brow. "What, man?"

"Nothing."

* * *

><p>Once they got home, they looked around for Cid, finding him in the basement, lit only by a single light bulb. "I don't know how you expect me to build anything when we've got no money, no materials, and no tools."<p>

"Have you at least drawn up plans?"

"Yeah, I've drawn them up. Just debating between the attic or the basement. How'd the call to Jessie go?"

"We're meeting her at the gas station tomorrow evening."

"All of us?" Vincent nodded, sitting on the stair steps. "Alright, then what are we doing afterwards?"

"Getting jobs. Like I said, we're not making any money this way by simply sitting around."

"Alright, alright. Damn, what the hell are we supposed to do?"

Vincent looked around. "Ideas?" Both of them shook their heads. "If any of us come up with anything, we're to let each other know. We need to make a lot of money, and fast."

* * *

><p>"What did you kids do today?" Riley asked after getting into the car. Casually, she let down her hair, shaking it out before massaging her own head.<p>

Vincent looked over, giving her an odd look. _Kids?_ "Stuff." She returned the look. "Men stuff."

"Oh, I see, excuse me for enquiring about your Boy's Club."

He barely smirked at that. "We talked about getting jobs ourselves." She blinked at him owlishly. Vincent shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I figured you need a little help with the funds. Don't misunderstand...we just think you're useless."

"Uh huh," she said with a disbelieving tone. She leaned back in her seat, lip quivering.

Though he had no idea why, but she was trying not to laugh from an idea that popped into her head. "What?"

"Nothing," came an entirely too quick of a reply.

"No, really. What?" She bit her lip, her face cracking up as she shook her head. His eyes narrowed. "You think we can't handle jobs?"

"That's not it." Before he could ask her again, she quickly added, "Have you thought of anything to do?"

"No. Tomorrow, we're meeting a contact to get new ID."

"Who is she?"

"She's a friend of—wait...how did you know they were female?"

Riley smiled. "Woman's intuition?"

"Bull."

"I woke up long enough to hear your conversation last night."

He eyed her suspiciously. "So, you weren't really asleep yet, were you?"

"I was half asleep. So...no, I wasn't. So, you don't even have an idea of what you guys want to do?"

"Not really. What did you want to do when you were looking for a job?"

"Not fast food."

"Well, that narrows it down. What was your degree in college anyway?"

"A one-year course in general subjects. So it was like taking one year of advanced courses of high school subjects."

"I see. You didn't even think about Architectural Design, or Interior Design, or something like that? You seem so transfixed on reviving the house, it just seems fitting that that's what you'd want to do."

She grew silent, looking out her window. "I, um, never thought about it."

Vincent felt the tension rise in the vehicle. He knew he was grazing a subject she constantly avoided. Since he was the one driving, she wouldn't be able to do what she did the last time. Still, out of consideration, he decided to distract her from whatever was plaguing her. God knew he had secrets of his own that he'd rather not share, especially with Riley.

"As a kid," he began, grabbing her attention, "I used to dream about becoming a superhero."

She smiled. "Didn't we all?"

"Some dream of being the damsel in distress." He returned the smile as he continued, "As I grew older, I decided I would do something similar, even if some of the work was...questionable in terms of morals. So, I joined the military."

"You were in the Army?"

"Mm. I was part of a black operations unit for a very brief period of time. Barret and Cid, they were also in the military. Cid used to be a fighter pilot, he also specialized in explosives and machinery. Barret, well, he handled heavy weaponry."

"Wow," she muttered, purely awed. "How'd you get into the BO?"

"I had many talents. My commanding officer was even considering sending in my file to Homeland Security." He looked over and nearly laughed at her expression of shock.

"You're pulling my leg."

"Somewhat. The black ops thing is...half-true. I wasn't actually in it, but I was due for transfer into the unit before...something else came up."

She watched him as they drove onto her street. "So, what was your specialty in the ranks then?"

"Expert marksmanship and sharpshooting, as well as top of my class in martial arts, in various styles. I was well known for my stealth and assassination techniques as well."

"You're a scary man."

"I told you I was a bad man."

"What? Did the higher ups find you too dangerous and send you to jail for it?"

He barely smiled. "No. That's hardly the reason I was in prison." She was still wondering about that? He pulled into the driveway, turning off the engine. They just sat there in silence for the longest time. "I indiscriminately killed a lot of people." She turned to him, startled by the very nature of his admission, and the fact he was even saying it at all. "That's just one reason. Barret and Cid helped, and that's why they were locked up with me."

"My god..."

"I did it all, just so I could get to one man. One man who's more monster than I am." Riley just watched his expressionless face stare off into space while she listened. "I thought I killed him, but three years later, I find out he survived."

She swallowed, her mouth partially dry. "And...this Gast guy knows where he is?"

He nodded. "That's what I'm hoping. The man I plan on killing is someone who..." he trailed off, staring at his hands which were gripping the steering wheel too tightly, his knuckles completely white.

Every time he thought about Hojo, his rage would build up to the point that he'd lash out. Riley was just silent for the longest time, watching his hands. She was half expecting him to rip out the steering wheel. Despite knowing what the man was capable of, her fear was minimal compared to her feeling of pity towards him. Was it pity? No, it felt more like she wanted to reach out to him. Why? She had no idea. Something else happened in his life that turned him into the killer he claimed to be. Riley didn't see a killer. Whatever this individual did to Vincent, apparently was enough to have him cut through so many lives with the intent of killing the object of Vincent's fury.

Saying nothing, she got out of the car, going around to his side and opening his door. He didn't even look at her when she crouched by his side. Riley just stared at him, head tilted as she gave a solemn expression. Something made her want to release that pain he obviously had. She reached towards his hands, gently releasing them from the wheel, quietly urging him to let go. Much to his own surprise, his hands listened to her. Before Vincent could even bother to protest, she climbed in to sit on his lap, her hands on both sides of his face, forcing him to look into her eyes.

"I may not know the whole story, but I know pain when I see it. Believe me."

He didn't say anything. As if with a mind of their own, his hands just gently grasped her arms, his thumbs moving back and forth, feeling her skin. It was like he was subconsciously seeking solace. No...deep down, he knew he was seeking her. Her fingers ran through his hair, causing him to close his eyes. She pulled his head forward before wrapping her arms around his neck in a comforting embrace. He welcomed the gesture, hands sliding up her back while he buried his face in her neck.

They sat like that for what felt like hours when it was only moments. Vincent opened his eyes but didn't move, mumbling into her neck. "Cid's going to give me hell if he finds out we had a moment."

"I won't tell if you won't." He chuckled, then finally leaned back. As she leaned back, she hit her head against the roof. "Ow!"

"Careful now," he said, reaching up to rub the top of her head. His hand slid down, tempted to linger on her cheek, but ventured further, resting on her shoulder instead. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Aren't I amazing?" She grinned playfully.

"Don't push it." He smiled.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** And they share yet another moment together...but it's more intimate and sweet. Like what I did in RoC (and will continue to do so), I want to make the relationship believable rather than have them jump onto the romance wagon. I don't believe in love at first sight. Attraction at first sight, fine, that's believable, but the love, it's more complicated and intricate. It has to be WORKED AT to work. Perhaps I'm just a biased individual who's never actually experienced that Love at First Sight schtick. Anyway, I prefer subtle hints of growing attraction as opposed to instant lust, thus why I made the final scene in this chapter the way it was. Sweet, but intimate, and although obvious that they'll end up together, they're NOT together yet. More has to be shared between them, and I'm not talking about bedsheets, you perverts. Well...that too I suppose. XD I'm going to attempt to make Riley's house in Sims 2 now. Please R&R, thanks.


	7. CH7 Little Gestures

**House Arrest**

**Disclaimer:**_ All Final Fantasy VII related characters and ideas are copyright to Square-Enix, and only them. Any other characters are copyright to the author._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven – Little Gestures<strong>

"How long do we have to wait here for?" Cid asked from the backseat.

Vincent was just sitting in the driver's seat, Barret beside him, arms crossed with his eyes closed. "However long it takes."

"You sure we can trust this woman?"

"Hey, man, I trust Jessie with my life! No way she'd sell us out! You gotta stop hatin' on the women, Cid."

"I don't hate women! I just don't trust 'em. Sneaky bunch, I tell ya. Like that time Riley actually nearly pulled one over Vince here. Clever...but I still think they're foolish."

"You ought to give women more credit and respect, Cid," Vincent said. "One of these days, they might end up being right about something that may actually save your life."

"Bah! That'll be the day. If that ever happens, I'll name one of my creations after her."

"Cid, whatever happened to that girl you mentioned?" Barret enquired.

"Ah yes, Sierra. Overly-cautious woman."

Vincent looked over his shoulder at him. "Perhaps that overly-cautious nature rubbed off on you."

Barret laughed while Cid snorted. "What happened to her? You said you were seeing her at the time you were here last."

"Hell if I know where she is right now. Could care less. I wasn't actually sleeping with the woman. We just briefly worked together. Stupid woman ruined this project for me. Because of it, I went completely broke, so I couldn't continue."

Curiosity suddenly made Vincent ask, "What were you working on?"

"Before I met you two, I was doing some vehicle contracts for the military. Got a pretty penny for it too before Sierra fucked up my career. I did some stuff like submarines, underground diggers, planes, you name it. There was one project in particular that the government wanted. Multifunctional tank. Big-ass thing. It was supposed to withstand a wide range of bombs, gunfire, canon fire. Hell, you could use an Anti-Tank rifle, and it wouldn't even scratch it."

"Jesus."

"Yeah," Cid said, in an awed daze of nostalgia. "Damn thing was a beast. It had one function though. The MP."

Like Vincent, Barret looked intrigued. "What's that?"

"Microwave Pulse. Works like an ADS, but more powerful. At least, that's what we were hoping for."

"You mean the Active Denial System? A heat ray?" Vincent clarified. "Christ, Cid."

"I know, wild ain't it?"

Vincent rubbed his face. "When you say pulse, you mean...?"

"It was to work exactly as it sounds. Like a shock wave with a max radius of 200 feet."

Barret was about to ask what happened, but spotted a van coming up. "I think that's her now."

"About damn time!"

All three got out of the car as the van was parked. A woman stepped out of the vehicle. Brown hair tied back into a ponytail, she stared at them with brown eyes, wearing a red bandana on her head. The woman wore olive green overalls with leggings barely going past her knees, a pair of brown work boots, and blue t-shirt.

"Hey, Barret," she greeted.

"Yo, Jessie. It's been ages." They caught each other's hands in a sort of arm wrestling manner. "What have you been up to all this time?"

"Hiding from authorities, like you." She smiled before spotting the other two. "These guys are your friends?"

"Yeah. They cool."

"Alright. Step into my lab and we'll get started." She opened the back doors of the van before they all climbed into what looked like a mini computer lab.

"Jesus Christ!" Cid exclaimed in surprise at all the equipment.

"Did you bring multiple shirts, like I instructed?"

"Yeah. Why the extra shirts?"

"If anybody looked at all your photo ID and saw you wearing the same shirt in every picture, you'd be caught for fraud on the spot." She looked at her computer then stepped between them, letting down a white sheet in front of the doors before turning on the lights at high. "Who's first?"

"I'll do it," Vincent volunteered.

It took almost three hours to go through the entire process before they were finally finished. Cid was leaning against the van by the end of it all, smoking a cigarette before Vincent and Barret came out.

Barret shook hands with Jessie again. "Nice seeing you again."

"Same here. Now, you guys watch yourself. Though you're on America's Most Wanted, the police and the government are being all hush hush about it. Apparently they don't want the public to know details about you guys."

"Thanks for the warning."

"See ya."

As the guys walked back towards the car, the van drove off. Cid was about to get into the car before Vincent stopped him. "Put it out."

"Aw, c'mon! It's one lousy smoke!"

"It's still Riley's lousy car. Finish it, then get in."

"Bloody hell! Man can't enjoy the finer things in life anymore." He continued to curse, finishing up his cigarette before throwing it away and climbing into the car. "She never said the car!"

"Frankly, I myself am not too fond of your habit," he remarked as Barret climbed in.

"Hell, don't you know some women find smoking attractive?"

"They find the action of smoking attractive. The gesture, Cid, not the smell or beyond that. Besides, those things will kill you. You're better off smoking marijuana. At least then, it has medicinal properties."

"Fuck that. Smells worse than good ol' nicotine."

Vincent just pulled out of the lot, heading straight home. Now that they had the new identities, perhaps they could relax a little. Yesterday still lingered on Vincent's mind though. Before he could stop himself, he had revealed something personal to Riley. It wasn't like him to simply blurt that sort of information out. Perhaps Cid was right, maybe Vincent was getting accustomed to Riley's presence to the point he was trusting her. What surprised him more was the fact that she embraced him for it. She didn't pry or anything. She just sensed his turmoil and reacted. It was a frightening thought to realize he was warming up to her. Cid had warned him to be careful, but it was getting more difficult the longer he lived in her house. If this kept up, he'd lose his senses around her. That fact could get them caught...or killed. Cid was right. No one should be trusted, especially not Riley. For all he knew, she was silently plotting a betrayal.

Wait, that didn't sound right. She could have turned them in by now if she had wanted to. She had plenty of opportunities. All he had to go on was his own instinct on her reliability. He knew she wouldn't betray Barret, at least. The two of them were like old friends when they were around each other. Cid on the other hand...well, the chances of turning him in were a little higher due to the evidence of their constant distrust toward one another. Still, she said it was refreshing having someone to fight with and yell at. As for himself...if yesterday didn't prove anything, then he wasn't sure what would.

They got home with Barret and Cid arguing about something like food. Vincent parked in the garage as they went inside, eventually joining them when everything was locked up. He was surprised to find the the hallway lights on upstairs. While Barret and Cid ravaged the kitchen, Vincent ventured upstairs to investigate. He turned his head left, Riley's bedroom door was wide open though the lights were off. Turning his head right, he spotted a ladder next to the second bedroom door, leading up to the attic. He climbed up, looking around at the darkness. The attic was surprisingly small for such a big house, and with no windows. It was just a minor storage space filled with heavily dust coated objects.

"Riley?"

"Over here," came her voice from behind a large pile of boxes.

He discovered her looking through some boxes filled with clothes and papers, and other useless crap. "What are you doing up here?"

"I was restless, and bored. So, I came up here to see what could be done to this room. I can't think of anything, though I was surprised to find all this stuff up here. I'm just looking through it."

"I can see that. Anything interesting?"

"Nope, just a whole lot of cheap old stuff. And dust." To emphasize, she coughed once.

"Hm. Well, don't you have work later? It's already four in the morning."

"Like I said, I was restless." She stood up, bending over to brush herself off. When she stood straight, she squealed, bouncing away from whatever scared her. "Ew, ew, EW!"

Vincent barely caught her by her arms. "What?"

"A spider! A BIG one!"

He just stared at her for the longest time. He blinked once or twice, his expression unreadable. Before he could stop it, a laugh rang out as he ask, "You're afraid of spiders?"

Her cheeks were flooded with air as she glared at him. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry, it's just..." he paused, catching his breath, "I'm more likely to harm you than they ever could, and you're afraid of them?"

She huffed, "I'll have you know that spiders are poisonous! And creepy..."

He chuckled, standing straight. "Most of them, their venom isn't even toxic to us. Most they can do is leave a nasty bite. Besides, they're more afraid of you than you are of them."

"I'm not five!"

"You're acting five," he remarked. He sighed, finding an old magazine and rolling it up. "Alright, where is it?"

She hid behind him, pointing at a post. "Over there." She pulled the neck of her shirt over her nose, like it was a security blanket, keeping her hands there to hold it up.

He walked over, peering through the dark. It wasn't completely pitch black, since she brought up a flashlight, but he barely spotted the offending creature. He gave the arachnid a quick death, dropping the magazine where he was before walking back over to her. "It was barely the size of my thumb."

"That's huge!" she protested.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's get out of here."

As she climbed down, she asked, "How'd your meeting go, anyway?"

"Well. We're set. We're officially the Three Stooges."

She chortled. "What names did you pick?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," he declared with a straight face while putting up the ladder steps, sealing the attic. Her expression was blank. "Sorry, bad joke." He cleared his throat. "Cid decided on Shamus Armstrong, Barret is Laurence Devereaux, and I took Van Winchester."

"Interesting," she said as they walked down to the kitchen. "Did you guys figure out what jobs you wanted to do?"

"No."

Barret looked up from eating a club sandwich he put together. "We need to find jobs that won't bring us a lot of attention."

Cid was sipping tea again, leaning against the counter. "And makes us a lot of money."

Like the other day, Riley was trying to hold back her laughter. Vincent was almost afraid to ask, "What?"

"Well, if you don't mind a suggestion, perhaps I have an idea that's perfect." She barely repressed an escaping giggle.

All three of them eyed her. "What?"

She grinned in such a devilish way, that it actually scared them. "You could be gigilos." All three men had their eyes bugging out in shock at her suggestion, making her burst out laughing. "Oh my god, your faces!"

"Riley...you can't be serious."

"Oh, c'mon Vincent. Think about it. Women pay you to have sex with them and show 'em a good time. That and it's not the sort of thing women would want to reveal to people. Unless you're into men, I won't judge."

"That's not it. It's also illegal, and if we're caught for that, we're caught entirely."

"But...it's paid sex," Cid muttered thoughtfully. Vincent and Barret gaped at him. "What? Just because I think women are damn fools, doesn't mean I don't want to get in their pants!"

Riley was actually dazed for a moment. "Did Cid actually just agree with something I said?"

"I'm just as shocked as you are." Vincent shook his head, looking at her. "Anyway, we can't do anything illegal. That brings unwanted attention from authorities."

Barret just bit into his sandwich. "Cid would likely just burn himself out anyway."

"What'd you say, Wallace?"

"You heard me, fool!"

"Enough," Vincent demanded. "Starting tomorrow morning, 8 o clock sharp, we go to town, look around, do whatever job scouting we have to for the morning, and spend the afternoon writing cover letters. Riley, we need your laptop."

"I don't have a printer."

"You can buy one."

"What? Bloody hell! You guys are impossible! Why can't you go to some printing store? You know how much a printer costs?"

"What about that inheritance?" She looked like she might slap him at the moment but he remained calm in the face of the storm. "I'll pay you back, but it's more convenient to just buy a printer rather than go all the way to a shop."

She sighed, calming down. "Fine, since you'll be paying me back for it..._and_ the other stuff you made me buy for you!"

"Of course."

"I'm not paying shit," Cid exclaimed.

"I said _I_, not _we_, Cid."

"Break my laptop, you buy me a whole new and better one," Riley declared.

"Fair." Vincent crossed his arms. "We need money for tomorrow." Riley just gave him an unimpressed look. "Please and thank you."

She softened under his gaze before sighing with exasperation, "Okay, how much?"

"A hundred should do us fine."

"I have to stop by a bank machine when I finish work. I'll give it to you then."

He nodded then looked at the other two before looking back at Riley. "Go get some sleep."

"Right. Keep the noise down, you blasted nocturnal critters."

She bid goodnight before heading off to bed. Vincent exhaled deeply before spotting Cid's hopeful expression. "You're not going to be a gigolo, Cid. Forget about it."

"But it's paid sex!"

* * *

><p>The guys spent the entire day brainstorming ideas of appropriate and inconspicuous jobs. Cid had decided, because he was good at it anyway, that he'd pick anything mechanical, so he'd hit the auto-shops and such. Barret was the kind of guy that could handle something as simple as being a bouncer at pubs and clubs. So while he was barhopping, Vincent would be looking into more simple office jobs. Though Cid was likely to have the largest income of the three, their profits together would get them where they need to go faster.<p>

Vincent was looking through his current collection of clothes when he heard rustling about downstairs. Riley was home, he mused. The thought was confirmed as Riley came up the stairs and peeked inside the bedroom Vincent claimed. "Hey."

"Welcome back." He sighed, not even sparing a glance as he glared at his clothes.

"What's wrong?"

"I've got nothing to wear."

The comment was a very unexpected thing to hear from Vincent. Normally, the guy never complained about something so trivial, let alone his own wardrobe. She was genuinely perplexed by the comment before realizing that he had nothing that was the least bit formal. "Well, on the way home, I realized I forgot to go to a bank machine...so..." He looked over. "If you want, we can go back out after I have my shower, and we can find you something to wear."

Her offer was just as strange as his comment. "Uh...sure."

She nodded, leaving him with an awkward silence in the room. He was already in the car by the time she was done, fidgeting with the radio again. "Why do you keep playing with that?"

"Old habit from when I was a kid." He forced himself to stop, leaning back against his seat as she drove off to town. He rubbed his face tiredly.

"Did you get any sleep at all?"

"No. I almost never sleep."

"That can't be healthy."

"I don't need it as much as you, Cid, or Barret do."

"You know, that nocturnal comment this morning was just meant as a joke."

"Hn. I knew that already. I'm being serious. I'm not like the rest of you people. My body is built differently."

"Keep talking like that and I'll end up calling you a vampire."

"Ha ha," he said half-assed. "Don't worry about it. I'll sleep when we get back."

Shopping for clothes didn't take long after Riley stopped at a machine to withdraw at least three grand. Vincent just wanted to get in, and get out. They found a simple dark blue suit with a matching tie. Finding some decent shoes and a white shirt, they were done. Riley made another stop and told him to wait in the car while she went inside another store. She was gone for twenty minutes and Vincent was half-asleep by the time she got back.

"What took you so long?"

"You're home all afternoon tomorrow, right?"

"Mmhm," he said, half-awake.

"Okay, just answer the door and enjoy."

He blinked blearily at her. "Enjoy what?" She only smiled mysteriously.

* * *

><p>"I don't wanna go," Cid complained the next morning. "We're out of damn tea. I can't start the day without damn tea."<p>

Riley was eating a bagel, looking through flyers from yesterday's mail. "I don't believe there's such a flavour as 'Damn,' Cid."

He ignored her quip, rummaging through the cupboards. "I refuse to go anywhere unless I get some tea! And I'm out of cigarettes too!"

"You can buy more when you find a job," she said distractedly. "Or, as a recommendation, you could quit."

"Fuck that!"

"Man, those smokes are gonna kill you. I agree with Riley, just quit smoking." Barret scratched his beard thoughtfully, sharing a flyer with Riley. "That chair looks comfy," he muttered."

"It would look nice in the back yard," Riley agreed. "Maybe they have the cushioning in a different colour. Green just seems redundant."

"What the hell are you guys doing? I'm having a morning crisis here, and you two are looking at Ikea?"

Barret ignored him while Riley sent him a bored look. "Oh yes, because the world revolves around your mental issues and morning rituals. God forbid your suffering."

Cid looked like he had just been slapped. She did it in such a calm and subtle way, that he couldn't even think of comeback. Vincent walked in, wearing his new suit. Cid looked over. "When the hell did you get that?"

"While you were sleeping yesterday." The suit seemed to flatter him quite well, still, his hairstyle seemed too informal for a possible interview. He was currently having trouble with the tie though. "Any of you know how to do this?"

Riley slipped off her chair and walked over. "I only know a Four in Hand knot."

"Whatever works." He just ignored Cid and Barret's curious stares as Riley performed the knot quietly. "So, where did you learn to tie a knot at all?"

"Internet." His perplexed expression had her continue. "My dad is useless when it comes to neckties. Seems you are too."

"Truth be told, I knew how to tie a Windsor, only problem is that it's been so long since I wore a tie, I forgot how it's done."

"You should have asked the guy at the store."

"I don't want that kind of attention over something so..."

"Stupid?"

"Yes."

She finished, patting his chest. "All done. Now, since everybody is here and dressed, can we go? Despite the fact I hate working there, I don't want to be late."

"Maybe you should be a prostitute," Cid suggested casually.

"Don't make me angry, Cid!" He just grinned triumphantly.

* * *

><p>All four somehow managed to fit in the car that technically was only meant to seat two people. Vincent barely managed to reach the diner without incident, especially with Cid and Riley bickering in the back. Cid nearly squished Vincent into the steering wheel as he climbed out to pull a cigarette out of his coat pocket. Despite him complaining earlier of having run out, Cid miraculously found another full pack. Vincent sighed in small relief as Riley stumbled out of the car in fury and into the diner to take on another hellish shift. He didn't realize he was watching her leave till he noticed Barret staring at him.<p>

"What?"

"Nothing."

Cid cut in, leaning knocking on Vincent's window. Once he rolled it down, he said, "I don't know about you fellas, but I'm hungry. It's been awhile since I've had any pancakes."

Vincent and Barret didn't say anything. Considering it, Vincent turned off the engine, getting out. "Alright, let's catch some breakfast here first."

The three of them strolled inside, Riley already serving coffee. She spotted them as she walked by. "What are you guys doing in here?"

"We skipped breakfast," Vincent explained.

She just stood there and looked around before pointing. "There's a clear table over there. I'll come over when I deal with the rest of the customers." He just nodded before going over to that table, sliding into a seat after Cid, Barret taking up the other side of the table. Riley didn't take long to walk over with not one, but two different pots. "Coffee, tea?"

"I'll take tea," Cid said.

"Coffee please," said Barret and Vincent.

She poured the hot beverages. "I'll bring over the menus in a sec."

"Don't worry about it, just tell us what's good here," Vincent said.

"Right now the breakfast special is—crap."

Barret blinked. "What kind of special is that?"

She shook her head, looking through the window. "No, I mean...um, sorry, it's the pancakes. It's got a single scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side, chopped strawberries and blueberries on top."

Vincent saw her somewhat anxious expression, following her gaze outside. A group of young men wearing torn jeans, tight t-shirts and leather jackets with punk hairstyles and eyeliner were heading straight for the diner. The group stepped into the building, and the trio was surprised to find that the restaurant had gone quiet. Vincent watched them, seeing at least one with a piece under their coat. Cid just sipped his tea, eyes ever watching.

The one with the piece, who Vincent assumed as the gang leader, had a longer coat, like a duster, with both sides of his head shaved, the rest of it combed back like a sort of pompadour. He raised his arms, as if to embrace life, speaking loudly with a sort of—possibly Irish—accent, "Where's my feisty little waitress?" He dropped his arms with a devilish grin, looking around. "Ah!" He spotted Riley, practically gliding towards her. "The fellas and I are hungry, love. I don't suppose you have any seats available, do you?"

Vincent had to give Riley credit for not backing away. From his seat, he could smell cigarettes, pot, sex, and alcohol all over the guy. The way he spoke so sweet and innocently to her made his insides churn with disgust. Barret looked like he was close to standing up to defend her, but Vincent gave him a look that kept the man seated. For now, they would observe.

Riley just gave the guy an unimpressed stare. "You've been warned on multiple occasions to stay away."

"Aw, but love, I wouldn't be able to see you, and my boys here wouldn't get to talk to Tifa."

"Well, sucks to be them, she's off today. Either grab a seat and shut up, or get the hell out."

He just smirked. "Billy Doyle doesn't take kindly to your ill manners."

Cid spoke out, leaning back in his seat. "You got some kind of problem, kid?"

Billy just looked over at Cid. "I suggest you mind your own business, tosser." He opened his coat flap, revealing the gun. "Unless you want to be made an example of."

"Ha!"

"What's so funny, old man?"

"Just the fact you have no idea who you're fuckin' talkin' to, damn brat."

Riley just harshly whispered at him, "Shamus! Don't make a scene."

Cid snorted, just lighting a cigarette casually. Billy just gave a smug look, sitting at the counter with his cronies. Barret shook his head, whispering, "What kind of fool just flashes a piece in public?"

"A god damn moron," Cid replied.

Riley was walking past Billy before he suddenly wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close and making her squeak in surprise. "What the hell are you doing?"

"You know, you've been avoiding me lately. You're never polite. I ought to remedy that." He smiled devilishly as he said thoughtfully, "I think you should be my girlfriend. I always wanted a feisty bitch to fuck." By now, living with killers had hardened her to some extent against assholes like this one, but he was going too far and pissing her off. "So, how about a kiss?"

"Ugh! Let me go! Zangan!"

The older man in the back saw the commotion and was ready to call the cops before Billy's voice rung out, "NO Zangan!" He just gave a toothy grin as he pressed a gun into Riley's side, ceasing her struggles, causing Zangan to hang up the phone. He chortled softly, the short barrel of the revolver trailing up her arm. "All I wanted was for you to be my girlfriend, and you shot me down like a bitch." He inhaled the side of her neck, then licked behind her ear; it was the last thing he ever did. "Now, about that k—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Riley was ripped away from him, then he saw stars, followed by an immense pain and dizzying headache as his head was slammed against the counter. Once his senses cleared somewhat, his head was slammed again and it was held against the surface. It didn't take long for him to realize that his own weapon had been taken and was now being sharply nudged into his side. Riley had been practically thrown into the seat beside Barret, watching as Vincent subdued her harasser.

"You okay, girl?" asked Barret.

"Y-yeah," she replied shakily.

Cid had gotten up with Vincent, making sure the cronies did nothing to intervene. Vincent just kept Billy under restraint. "Now, you listen to me you piece of shit. I want you to leave, and crawl back to the sewer you came out of. If I you ever come back, or touch Riley ever again, I will personally put this gun between those two flaps you call a mouth, and pull the trigger. Do I make myself clear?"

"Okay! I won't do it again! Just let go of me, man!"

Vincent just slammed his head again before releasing him, but not before stealing his duster coat. "And just for good measure."

A moment passed before Billy was thrown out through the door, glass shattering. It didn't take long before his friends were also thrown out, landing on Billy. Both Cid and Vincent just stood in the door, watching the group stagger off before they went back to their table.

Vincent looked over at Zangan. "Sorry about the door."

He just shook his head in awe. "No problem."

Cid took his seat again, resuming his ritual tea sipping. Vincent knelt in front of Riley. "Are you alright?"

She nodded slightly. "Just...shaken up. I'll be fine. Thank you."

He just nodded. "You're welcome. Can you manage to serve us some breakfast?"

She half-laughed for a second. "Yeah, I can do that. No problem."

* * *

><p>By the time the three of them got home, they were exhausted. Cid and Barret managed to get interviews, but Vincent was out of luck today. Still, there was a chance people would call, so he'd give it a couple of days. He sat in the bay window of the living room, loosening the tie. He watched curiously as a truck pulled up in front of the house and two guys stepped out. Feeling cautious, he reached for the newly acquired gun hidden in his blazer before remembering something Riley said the day before. Did she order something?<p>

He went to answer the door just as knocking was heard, before he opened it. "Yes?"

"Hi, we have three mattresses here for...Riley Willows?"

"Mattresses? When did she buy mattresses?"

"Yesterday afternoon, sir. Is this her address?"

"Yeah, it is." He shook his head in surprise. She bought mattresses. For them? "Just, uh...put them in the living room for now." The delivery people nodded and went back for the beds. Riley's courtesy actually made him smile.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** POP QUIZ! Who can guess the significance and secret meanings behind Vincent, Cid, and Barret's false names? Bet you can't get Barret's. XD I'll list the names again for those who don't like scrolling and searching.

Cid – Shamus Armstrong  
>Barret – Laurence Devereaux<br>Vincent – Van Winchester

Both the first and the last names have their own meanings (Hint: Except Barret's. Both names are connected). I'm just quizzing you lovely readers for my own cruel amusement. XD I'll give you all till Chapter 10 to figure it out before I list the meanings. Until then, hope you enjoy further chapters and please R&R. I love feedback. Feed me feedback...it's delicious.


	8. CH8 Past Pains

**House Arrest**

**Disclaimer:**_ All Final Fantasy VII related characters and ideas are copyright to Square-Enix, and only them. Any other characters are copyright to the author._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight – Past Pains<strong>

The monitor's surface glared brightly in the dark, Vincent's file on screen. In the lab, cluttered with beakers and research data, Hojo muttered to himself, hovering over a mutated specimen that he himself created, and currently dissecting. The lab doors slid open before Tseng strolled inside, walking up to the scientist.

"Professor."

Hojo raised a single finger quickly, gesturing Tseng be silent while he continued to mutter. After typing onto his nearby laptop, he turned to the agent. "Have you found my specimen?"

"We're still looking, sir."

The old man tsked. "How very disappointing. I expect men of your calibre to live up to your job and succeed any task assigned to you."

"Keep in mind, sir, Valentine was considered the best in his unit when it came to stealth. He knows how to stay under the radar—"

Hojo practically screeched, "I don't want to hear any of your excuses! I want him found!" When Tseng looked like a scolded child, Hojo waved him off. "Oh never mind! It looks like I may have to send out someone to do the job right. Leave me!"

"Yes sir," and with that, Tseng left.

Hojo rubbed his temple in frustration. Strutting over to a steeled wall, he pressed a few keys in the nearest control panel, the steel wall opening up to another room. Inside was a tube-like tank, and within was a man. Hojo eyed this being that was ethereal in appearance. The skin was almost creamy, the muscles well formed, and though his hair was shimmering silver and extremely long, his face looked like the face of a man in his late twenties, carved by the angels themselves. The old man studied this naked being, his modesty barely spared with his locks of hair floating about and in front of him. Upon the glass in frosted letters were _SEPHIROTH_. Hojo turned to another control panel, keying in the command to drain the tank. If it wasn't for the delicate circumstances, he would have never dared awaken this being. The subject was far too unstable, but Valentine had to be found.

Approaching it more closely, he called out softly, "Sephiroth." The man began to awaken, struggling to open his eyes. When he managed it, his eyes were almost an acidic green, the pupils like a cat. Hojo smiled. "I have a job for you."

* * *

><p>A big yawn rang out as Riley relaxed in her backyard. Though the yard itself still needed work, she got some backyard furniture. It was supposed to be a long weekend, so she got to have a Sunday off. Now that she had her small shopping trip, she just wanted to relax. A month had passed by since the incident at the diner, but she didn't say anything to Vincent, too embarrassed to bring it up. Didn't stop her from thinking about it though. She attempted to distract herself by pondering the idea of a pool in the backyard. Unfortunately, the yard was too small to bother digging one out, but she could always buy one. Then her mind reverted to what Vincent's opinion was on women in bathing suits. Her cheeks flared. So much for relaxing.<p>

Since that incident though, the 'three stooges' had managed to find jobs quicker than she had. Barret now worked at the bar of _7__th__ Heaven_ as a bouncer, while Cid was instantly hired at a local auto-shop. Vincent himself was hired by Zangan to be a cook at the diner. This frustrated Riley immensely since he'd always be keeping an eye on her. That, and her thoughts always wandered back to him.

Cid startled her out of her thoughts when she heard him flick his lighter right next to her to light up another fag. "Jesus! Don't do that!"

Regarding her, he inhaled before blowing out smoke. "Why aren't you at that girly shop?"

"Floral Boutique...it's my day off." He said nothing and she simply leaned back in her chair, staring at nothing in particular. "Why aren't you dead yet?"

His lips peeled back into an evil grin, biting the cigarette. "I'm immortal."

"Ha ha," came an equally sarcastic reply. "Hey, boob." He snorted, indicating he was listening. "Do you have any idea why Vincent..." she trailed off.

Regardless, Cid knew what she wanted to ask. He glanced at her thoughtfully, taking another puff as he considered how to answer. "Vincent has a thing about women being mistreated. I wouldn't call you a woman though," he added, earning a scowl. "From what I can see, Vincent does care about your well being. Barret's the same way, but Vincent...he prefers to act indifferent about it. I've known the man long enough to almost know how he thinks."

"I see." And she did. She understood what Cid was telling her. If Vincent hadn't told her about his past, she probably wouldn't have, but he did tell her. Perhaps it was his way of atoning for it, by protecting her from some minor thugs, and treating her with random acts of kindness. "Where is everybody anyway?"

"Who knows. Both of them went into town after you left to go shopping." He dropped the cancer stick, crushing it under his boot. "Hey, listen. How about you bring that thing you call a car into the shop when you're working, and I can see about getting it fixed up."

"You'd rig it to explode," she accused on the spot, eyeing him suspiciously.

He only raised his hands in an honest gesture. "No, really. I'm handy with this sort of stuff. I can probably get you a deal on the refurbishing. Granted, it needs to be gutted thoroughly."

She huffed. "It gets me from point A, to point B. What more can you ask of it?" A thought suddenly occurred. "What time is it anyway?"

Cid checked his watch. "Almost one. Why?"

"Just wondering. I think I'll go back into town." She had an idea where Vincent was. "Don't make trouble."

* * *

><p>He was exactly where she thought he would be. He sat in front of the microfilm projector in the library, scanning old newspapers again. Riley strolled up behind him without his notice. Remembering he was always armed, she went to clear her throat but saw a picture of a woman on the screen. He seemed to linger longer on this particular page more than anything previous.<p>

Part of her was relieved he wasn't startled when she muttered, "She's pretty." Vincent glanced over his shoulder, looking mildly baffled by her presence. He turned his eyes back to Lucrecia when she asked, "She your girlfriend?"

"No," he said flatly.

Finding a nearby chair, she took a seat beside him. "Somebody close?"

His eyes softened. "Something like that. She's dead." Riley blinked in surprise, thinking, _awkward_. "How'd you know where I was?"

"Wild guess. Where's Barret?"

"Getting in touch with a contact."

"For what? Secret stuff?"

His smile was minimal. "Yes, secret stuff."

"I assume I am not allowed to know the details of said secret stuff?"

"I'll tell you later. What are you doing here?"

She sighed. "I was bored. I'm so used to working at this time, that I wanted to come bug you. Or help."

"You can't help. I appreciate the sentiment, but you can't do anything to help."

"Dude, I may have better luck finding whatever it is you're looking for. Shove over." He blinked as she pushed him out of the way, forcing him to nudge his chair over. "This woman, did she have anything to do with that...what was his name again?"

"Gast Faremis. She only studied his research with Hojo."

The look on Vincent's face told her everything when she turned to ask him about Hojo. "Well, what did any of them study?"

"Life and death, generally."

They were still and silent for a moment as Riley pondered the meaning. What did it mean to study life? If Hojo was as bad as a man as Vincent claimed, then maybe... "Not to sound cliche or anything as if I've watched too many movies, but are you talking about something like genetic engineering?"

She was quick, he thought. "Yes. You're smarter than you appear."

"I care more about my brain than my looks. Have you tried looking around with that in mind? Or were you just looking for a name?"

Vincent stared at her for a full five seconds before glaring at the screen. "Just the name."

She smiled slyly. "You're dumber than you appear. I thought you used to be a spy or some kind of super soldier. Oh...right...brawn over brain in the army." She laughed at his embarrassment. It was sort of cute.

His embarrassment changed to something darker. "That's...exactly what he did."

"Vincent?"

"We're in public. It's Van," he whispered gently before standing up. "We better go get Barret. Library is about to close."

She only nodded. It was close to two by the time they reached a secluded area of the town. The lowest class part of it anyway, though it still looked to be pretty decent. Vincent simply sat in the driver's seat in silence in front of a building with a steel door, painted red, but with the paint starting to peel off.

She sat there, shifting uncomfortably. "So, who's the contact?"

"Guy named Biggs. We needed weapons."

"You have weapons."

"They'll be looking for security registered issues. We have to exchange them for unregistered weapons."

"Oh." She shifted again. "What exactly...did Hojo do to you?"

Now he was shifting. "It's not a happy tale." When she only stared at him, he sighed. "The military was commissioning their R&D Division to conduct research into developing the human body. Super Soldiers was just a theory, but because war never changes, they wanted to make sure they had the bigger stick than the enemy. I was assigned to be a test subject."

"You weren't given a choice?"

"A soldier goes wherever they're told by their commanding officer." He inhaled, staring blankly ahead. "That's when I met Professor Hojo and Dr. Crescent—the picture you saw was her." Riley only nodded. "The daily procedures and tests were...agonizing. Somehow, I managed to survive it all. It was probably because she was there to keep my mind from breaking."

"So...you were close," she said quietly. He nodded. "You fell for her, didn't you?"

The lump in his throat could barely be swallowed. "Hard. I fell hard. We were no more than friends though. She was a kind woman. She worked too hard, always working herself into exhaustion." He lowered his gaze. "When the tests were finally over, and it seemed like I was ready, I was taken into the battlefield. I was given the order to kill everyone in sight by myself. I got shot so many times that I lost count of the holes put in me. I killed everyone without question...then I came across civilians. They were just harmless families. The children were crying. I remember a baby's wail. I wanted to disobey the order...but, in that moment, my body wouldn't listen to me. When I raised that gun, my hand...my body...I was shaking all over, trying to fight this...whatever it was. I lost. They died. I killed them." Hard lines became evident in his expression. "They didn't just want strong men, they wanted soldiers that didn't have the will to disobey. But it wasn't my CO that gave the command...it was Hojo. When I contacted him next...the bastard was laughing. He talked about how the test was a success and how he anticipated that I would hesitate in the face of innocence. They...'did their job as target practise,' is what he said."

"Oh my god..."

He nodded. "Then he told me about how Lucrecia—Dr. Crescent," he amended, "was being used for another experiment. I was just a precursor to something even bigger. He chose me, because I was the most fitting candidate for his experiment. The CO didn't send me anywhere to begin with. I just received a letter from who I thought was him. Without question, I just followed what I thought were his orders. I was imprisoned...Barret and Cid got me out then they helped me take my revenge on Hojo. We killed everyone in our way, but Barret and Cid...they nearly died while I was able to keep going. When I finally reached the bastard, I saw Lucrecia lying there on the floor dead." Vincent's face betrayed emotional pain, but it softened considerably at the mention of the woman. "He killed her. I lost it entirely and emptied my gun in him. Cid and Barret had been caught at that point, and they arrested me right after. We were dishonourably discharged. I found out later that Lucrecia was pregnant."

Riley's lip quivered, trying not to cry as she blinked rapidly. "I thought..." she swallowed, her voice rough with the threat of tears. "I thought you two didn't get that close."

"It wasn't mine," he clarified. "I don't know whose it was." He turned to her then, surprised to see his own pain reflected in her eyes. "Jesus...please don't cry."

"I'm not crying!" she managed to choke out, rubbing her eyes. While she tried regaining her composure, she murmured, "Do you know if she knew about what Hojo did?"

"I'm more inclined to say she did know, at least at the end, but whether or not she was part of it, I couldn't say." Suddenly a thought occurred. "I need to go to New York."

"New York? Why?"

"I have a contact there who may be able to help, if he feels like it."

She nodded. "Can I come?"

"And why would you want to go to New York?"

"Because I used to live there. That, and I wanted to go back and do something. Hey, at least this way, you can keep a close eye on your prisoner, right?" She tried an innocent smile.

He stared, scoffed, then smiled in return. "I suppose there's no harm in it. Pack for a couple days worth. There's Barret."

He walked out with four duffle bags. Spotting Vincent and Riley, he smiled as the trunk popped open. Packing the weapons in, he climbed in after Riley slid into the back. "Wasn't expecting a ride."

"Neither was I. Riley surprised me at the library. Barret, we've got to talk. I've got a line I might be able to pull."

* * *

><p>"New York?" Cid repeated. "You're going to see him? I thought you and him weren't on speaking terms."<p>

"We're not, but I suppose it's about time, isn't it? I'm getting nowhere with the search at the library."

"I guess, but why are you bringing the girl?"

"She asked to come. I wouldn't have if she didn't ask. Said something about needing to do something. We'll be leaving tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? That soon? Don't you both gotta work or something?"

"I already told Zangan that we needed a couple of days off. We'll be back by Thursday at the latest if things go as I hope."

"You going armed?" Barret asked.

He thought it over, then nodded. "Yeah, might as well, but I'll go light. Let's go over the new toys."

* * *

><p>Riley had packed everything she needed, placing her small but full duffle in the trunk of her car. Vincent seemed to have already placed his own bag in the trunk, but he wasn't anywhere to be seen. Deciding that it's been awhile, she made a call to her father to let him know she wouldn't be home for a few days, even telling him where she'd be going. When that was dealt with, she went to retake her place in the backyard with a gardener's magazine. She was outside for a couple hours before she dozed off in her lawn chair.<p>

That was how Vincent found her. He'd been in the attic with Barret and Cid, moving the junk left behind around to organize the place as a sort of hideaway. Rather than wake her up, he crouched next to her, watching her sleep. She'd need it, he mused. The trip to New York would be long, and they had to get up early. Carefully, he hooked his arms under her, and like before, carried her up to bed. She seemed to curl into him, or perhaps it was his body heat she was subconsciously pulled by, he didn't know. Thankfully, her bed wasn't made, so it was easier to put her under the covers. When he tried to pull away, he discovered that she grabbed his sleeve.

"Riley?" No reply, just the sound of her soft breathing. Heh, she really was asleep. As gently as he could, he attempted to pry himself away from her grasp, but to no avail. He eyed her then. "Are you really asleep?" No reply again.

Sighing, he sat on the edge. Eventually she would let go...right? Still, it didn't bother him. Despite everything, he enjoyed her presence. Half an hour passed before she began to shift in her sleep, then rolled over. He blinked, having to carefully manoeuvre over her as she pulled on him. It was awkward. He could have woken her up to have her let go of him, but he wanted to spare them both the embarrassment. Now on the unused half of the bed, he decided to make the most of it by getting comfortable. It was true he didn't require as much sleep as other people did, but the silence of the situation had made him extremely drowsy. The sound of Riley's breathing, he admitted, was actually therapeutic and relaxing.

He recalled the night she tried to escape with mere bobby pins. The smell of her bath products still lingering in his memory...vanilla. Riley had switched between that and the scent of apricot, switching for the for the first of the second every other shower. Such basic scents, but they were alluring. Vincent could almost drink in her scent. It was more comforting than Lucrecia's usual signature. The woman had smelled lightly of perfume, the source of it dabbed on her wrists and behind her ears. Riley never wore perfume. She didn't need it, he thought, but why was he comparing the two? These past couple of months with Riley was beginning to fog his judgement. Lucrecia, he fell almost instantly for her, but Riley...he was shamed to admit, that his feelings for her was gradual, but sweeter.

When Billy Doyle dared to point a gun at her, he nearly killed the boy. He would have if it wasn't for the fact he was in a public place. He would make good on his threat to blow off his head if Doyle went near her again. Vincent had expected her to ask about it, but he was relieved when she never did, afraid of his own answer. He cared. One could assume both Barret and Cid could see his inner struggle to come to terms with his own feelings while keeping his past feelings for Lucrecia in mind. The lesson he learned that day nearly got them killed, but Riley was different. She wasn't a scientist, and she probably could defend herself if it came to it. She was also safe—no, that wasn't right. Trustworthy. Christ, calling herself his prisoner earlier...he no longer considered her as such, but maybe she still didn't trust them and was perhaps planning to turn them in.

His mind was going in circles when he heard her murmur, "Vincent..."

"Hm?"

She opened her eyes, still glazed with sleep. "Why are you in my bed?"

He stared at her, no expression evident. "You took my shirt hostage when I carried you to bed."

"Oh," she said, letting it go at last. "You didn't do anything funny while I was sleeping, were you?"

Deciding to leave out the part he had to climb over her, he said, "No."

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"I wanted to let you sleep. I tried shaking you off. You're a hell of a heavy sleeper."

"You did not," she declared.

He smiled. "No, I didn't. Go back to sleep."

She watched him, still drowsy. "You look like you need it more than I do."

"How so?"

"You're half-lidded and I'm seeing bags. Did the experiments turn you insomniac?"

"No. Well, maybe. I just know they made me physically stronger and faster. My senses are slightly higher as well."

She seemed to consider that. "No wonder you caught me so easily that night. When I tried to escape."

He nodded. "I heard you open the gate before I ran out to catch you." He yawned. Jesus, maybe he did need to sleep.

"You can stay in here if you want," she said suddenly.

"I have my own bed."

"You're already on another bed, why expend the energy?" she pointed out. She continued before he could reply, "Besides, I thought, maybe you could use the company. It probably wasn't easy talking about your past, especially to someone like me."

"There's nothing wrong with you."

"I know, but you told me before that the less I knew, the better."

"I did," he said in agreement. "Are you inviting me to sleep in your bed because you believe I may be in emotional pain and need somebody to sympathize me?" After a moment of thought, she sheepishly nodded. He smiled, brushing hair from her face. "I wouldn't worry about it. The pain is still there, I won't lie, but I'm mostly over it. It's when I kill Hojo that I'll be able to finally let it go."

"Revenge isn't the answer."

"No, but it's reassurance that he can't do to others what he did to me. Does that make sense?" She nodded. He regarded her. "Or is the sympathy only part of the reason?"

She blinked, then started to deny, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're lying."

Sighing, she gave in. "Maybe I like your company. You're warm...and there's no heating in this place yet."

"Oh, if that's all," he said playfully, about to get up.

"We're going to New York," she began, stopping him from leaving. Her eyes strayed from his face as she began to pull at the pillowcase. "I want to visit my mom. That's why I wanted to go."

The taboo topic they both had been avoiding was finally coming to light. "What happened to her?"

"She died in a car accident," she answered quietly. "It was the day I would graduate from high school. She and I had a fight the day before because she neglected to push aside her appointments—she was an accountant—for that day. I was pretty steamed. My dad showed up, but...she didn't. After the graduation ceremony, the police approached me and told me my mother was dead." Before she could stop it, she half-choked out a sob.

"Oh Jesus..." He pulled her close then, cradling the back of her head as she covered her face with her hands.

"God, she was only ten minutes away from the school. She was rushing to my graduation and she died for it. I got my diploma, angry and hurt, while she was dead or dying. I never felt so crushed in my life." The tears wouldn't stop. She tried to stop them, but she was helpless. "Y'know...my mom got me that car as a belated birthday present for my 16th when I got my license." She let out a half-laugh. "I hated that car too. I wanted a newer and shinier model. After mom died, I began to appreciate the damn thing."

Vincent said nothing for awhile. When she finally calmed down, he said, "I'm sorry. Truly, I am." He wasn't good at comforting others. In fact, he tended to avoid those that needed it, but Riley needed him, and he wasn't about to leave her alone. "It wasn't your fault."

"I didn't say it was."

"You were thinking it," he insisted. "Trust me, I know the feeling of loss. Part of me is completely aware that Lucrecia's murder was no fault of mine, but at the same time, I can't help but blame myself for it. So, I know how you feel." She nodded. "Just to be frank, it wasn't anyone's fault. New York traffic is Hell on Earth."

Another tear stained laugh was choked out. "Yeah."

His thumb brushed her cheek, wiping away the salted streams. "Feeling better?"

"A little. Sorry."

"Don't be. So is that where the inheritance comes from?" he asked curiously.

"Yeah. Life insurance."

"Ah. Well, since we're both feeling sorry for ourselves, I suggest we get some sleep."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Christ, I think I actually cried a little. Sorry for the delay folks. I wasn't in the mood to write, but I'm role-play deprived, and I'm bored with most of the games available to me, and I don't have a bloody job, so...I reread House Arrest (noticed a single inconsistency) and wrote this chapter over the last couple of days. Might have to reread RoC as well to remember what's what and continue that as well. The rereading will take...a couple of days at least. Not sure when I'll post the next chapter for it though. More likely to update this again before that one.

Also, before I forget, since I recall asking you readers before if you understood the references of the "3 Stooges'" fake names. Was gonna wait till chapter 10, but I have gotten any reviews or comments, and it's been awhile since I last updated, so I'll just tell you guys now.

Cid Highwind as Shamus Armstrong. Shamus is the name of my OC in my other ongoing story who is Cid's grandson. Armstrong as in Neil Armstrong, the first man on the moon. Famous astronaut. In _Final Fantasy VII_, Cid is the first man in space, so it was appropriate.

Barret Wallace as Laurence Devereaux. Laurence is the name of Laurence Tureaud, aka Mr. T, whom Barret is constantly referenced as. Devereaux comes from Earl Devereaux, a character in _Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs_, whom Mr. T voices.

Vincent Valentine as Van Winchester. Van comes from a couple of things. It could come from the artist Vincent Van Gogh, but I named him after my OC Van Drake, a vampire who was loosely inspired by Vincent when I made him. Winchester is the name of a gun, Vincent's weapon type of choice, and is also an available weapon to Vincent in the game _Final Fantasy VII_.

So that's all I have to say, except for, please R&R. Thanks.


	9. CH9 In NYC

**House Arrest**

**Disclaimer:**_ All Final Fantasy VII related characters and ideas are copyright to Square-Enix, and only them. Any other characters are copyright to the author._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine – In NYC<strong>

New York, the city that never sleeps, or so it was said. It had taken hours to drive here, and like Vincent said, the traffic was Hell on Earth. The heat was also unbearable. Riley slumped in the passenger seat, feeling like she was going to melt onto the floor. Vincent rested his head on his propped up fist, which its elbow was resting on the door, waiting patiently for traffic to move along. Apparently the heat affected him so much, that he took off his button-up shirt, wearing only a white wife beater now. His tolerance only reached so far. When they got back, he was making damn sure that Riley's car was getting a huge overhaul, air conditioner being a must.

Riley groaned, "Are we there yet?"

"Christ, this is ridiculous," he muttered in subtle agreement. "We would have gotten there by now if we had gotten out and walked."

"If you had listened to me in the first place, we would have been wherever we're going by now, and possibly heading back."

"I don't need directions!" he snapped. He forced himself to calm down. Between the traffic and the heat, he was getting irritable. "Besides, this is the quickest way I know to get there."

"Quickest? You're not seriously saying that half a mile per hour is the quickest route, are you?"

Rather than answer, he nearly shouted in amazement, "Finally! About time things sped up."

He moved forward as vehicles started to make way. Taking the opportunity, he weaved through the vehicles, eventually reaching more vacant streets. Was that air he was breathing? He inhaled to be sure. Nothing like having room to breathe. Usually, cramped or populated areas never bothered him. In fact, there wasn't much that did bother him. It was just the people in said populated area that tended to aggravate him, throwing curses at him and otherwise sounding like morons, pretending they knew how to drive. A license meant nothing in his opinion, nor did the test. To him, almost everyone was an idiot on the road. The only thing that had any merit was whether or not people actually paid attention to what the hell they were doing while driving. After years of experience, people normally got confident and or careless, and that usually got people killed. The same could be applied to other things in life. Though, there was such a thing as being too cautious. It could be just as dangerous.

However, it was the former that got Riley's mother killed. The woman could probably only think of getting to her daughter's graduation, disregarding New York's dangers. Vincent wondered briefly if Riley had visited her mother's grave before. Maybe the guilt kept her from doing so, but guilt could also have the opposite effect. Perhaps she did visit her grave because of that guilt. Vincent believed it had to be the latter. Riley was strong in her own way, but she was also frail. He'd only seen her cry twice. The first time was out of frustration of being a prisoner in her own hope, incapable of escaping when she made the attempt. The second was the day before when she confessed to him about her mother. Earlier that day, she nearly cried then when he told her the whole of his past, but managed to contain herself.

Their relationship was odd, he mused. Rather than have the non-relationship of a prisoner and captor, they had grown close enough to share the pains of their pasts. Hell, it was getting to the point that they might as well have been in a relationship. Barret thought of her like a little sister, and though they had their bouts, Cid might as well have been her uncle, or another brother.

"Vincent?"

"Hm?"

"Are you actually paying attention to the road, or are you zoning out just to scare me?"

He looked over, saw that she was clinging to the door, as there was no chicken bar present. Looking forward, he hadn't realized he was becoming lost in his own thoughts, and was carelessly weaving through vehicles. Now he felt like a hypocrite.

He blinked a few times, regaining focus. "Sorry." He glanced at the next street sign he noticed. "We're almost there," he announced.

She visibly relaxed when his pace changed. "Who are we going to see anyway?"

"Someone," he said mysteriously. He felt her stare burn into the side of his head. "You'll see, if he's still there. Chances are he is." He drove into the area of Morningside Heights, driving past Columbia University. Curiosity had him asking, "Where'd you attend?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm curious."

"Why?"

"Making conversation."

"You're not going to drag me to go revisit my professors, are you?"

"Maybe, considering the person we're going to see is in fact a college professor. Did you go to Columbia?"

"No."

"Then no worries. Unless you want to go back and revisit your professors." His eyes slid over to her, trying to gauge her expression. "Did you have a crush or something on one of your teachers?"

"What? No! That's just...wrong!" The flustered look on her face had him laughing. "And besides, they were either too old, or they were female. Sometimes both."

"I thought you had a lesbian experience in college."

"Doesn't mean I'm attracted to women. And I told you, it was experimental."

"Fair enough," he said, smiling. It took awhile, but he eventually found a place to park. It was only a block away from his destination.

"We're here?"

"About a block away, but yeah."

They walked that block. The buildings in the area were very...Riley thought New York-esque, with the old fashioned architecture. Though she lived in New York once upon a time, she didn't know every corner of the city. The building they walked up to seemed like a upper middle-class building with that same classic design in its structure. Vincent stared at the list of names and residents near the intercom. Riley watched his expression with fascination. He looked...anxious. When he found the name he sought, he dialled the assigned buzzer, waiting for a reply.

"_Yes, hello?_"

"It's Vincent," he announced.

Riley started to feel as anxious as him when the man on the other end didn't respond for a full minute. "_I'll buzz you in._"

He clicked off, and a buzz rang out just as the locks clicked open on the door. Vincent pulled it open, letting Riley go first before following in after her. Not being one to trust elevators, he aimed for the stairs, climbing up to the fitfh floor. The shirt he had taken off before was placed back on, mostly buttoned up by the time he reached the door with a _505_ carved into a gold oval plaque screwed on the front. Vincent hesitated, fist raised to knock. Finally, he rapped gently.

Another moment of silence, but the sound of a chain being removed could be heard, and when the door opened, Riley could have sworn she was looking at Vincent. The man was older than Vincent, but the hair was just as black, though starting to grey, and cut almost the same way as Vincent's, only it was combed back with minimal loose strands hanging around his forehead. He also had a beard on his jawline and chin, but no moustache. He wore black slacks, and a white dress shirt under a woven grey vest. Looking between the two, the only thing Riley noticed was one-hundred percent identical, right down to the shape and colour, was their eyes.

Vincent stood there, no expression on his face. "Father," he greeted monotonously.

"Vincent," his father greeted back. He stepped back, granting them entrance. "Come in."

They did. Riley looked around the apartment, admiring random knick knacks that looked as if they belonged to a great scholar. Well, that didn't seem far off since Vincent mentioned him being a college professor. The apartment was furnished like any man seeking knowledge would decorate his home. Like an old fashioned office, she determined. In the living room, there was even a large leather chair, and a whole wall filled with books. The man certainly had old-fashioned tastes, or his pay was minimal, since he owned an older tube television, and a record player. Hell, was that a VCR?

"What brings you here?" the man asked while gesturing them to take a seat.

Riley sat, but Vincent stood. That made Riley feel rude about sitting. She couldn't guess why though. It felt like she was intruding on this man. Vincent spoke while the man took a seat in the leather chair, "Gast Faremis."

"Ah," was all he said. "I can't help you. I haven't heard from him in years."

"An address is fine."

"I don't have that either. Last time I went to see him, he wasn't around, and it looked as if his place had been cleaned out." He looked at his son intently. "Why are you determined to find him?"

"The less you know, the better."

"Does it have to do with your imprisonment?"

Vincent blinked. "How'd you...?"

"I'm your father. It's my job to know where you are at all times, and if necessary...why."

Vincent sensed the questions his father wanted to ask, but didn't. He finally did sit, emitting a resigned sigh. "I didn't willingly kill those people."

"What about the people at the military's lab?"

"That was..." Vincent rubbed his face. "It's complicated."

"I'm sure it is. I have plenty of time to listen and understand, if you're willing to share it. I can't help you if I don't know what's going on."

Vincent hated it, but his father was right. He spilled it all, every detail that he had already told Riley. For some reason, it helped knowing she was there. Initially, he planned on coming to New York alone, but was glad she expressed her desire to come along. When he finished, his father was quiet. Christ, the old man knew how to keep quiet and make you squirm from the silence.

"You're looking for Gast, in hopes he'll know where Hojo is," he said finally.

"And his research," Vincent added. "His research is key to what made me. Hojo only..."

"Modified it," he supplied, sighing afterwards. "Hojo would have copies of this research."

"I plan on destroying it, along with him."

"Then what comes after revenge? The military and the police are going to continue hunting for you until you're caught, or worse, dead. Vincent, I don't have any answers for you, I'm sorry. I can give you his last address, but that's all I can offer."

Vincent closed his eyes, as if defeated. "Better than nothing."

"On a few conditions." Vincent suddenly eyed him with suspicion. "First...introduce me properly to your girlfriend here," he pointed to Riley with a sly smile.

"What?" Riley blinked in surprise, then laughed nervously. "Oh, we're not...y'know. I'm his...hostage," she said with uncertainty. "I'm Riley."

"Riley," he said, smiling softly. "What a lovely name for a woman. You can call me Grimoire. As I'm certain you can already guess by now, I'm Vincent's father."

"Ha-ha, yeah, I noticed."

"And what do you mean hostage?" he asked curiously while eyeing Vincent, as if warning his son what might happen if he didn't like the answer.

"He and his friends broke into my house and now we live together." Vincent shot a baffled expression at her as if betrayed. She grinned. "I'd like to think of them as family." Now Vincent was truly shocked. Family? She thought of them as family?

Grimoire smiled. "That's nice. Vincent."

He turned to his father. "Yes?"

"I expect you and Riley brought packed belongings?"

"Yes."

"Spend a couple nights here then. I have a spare bedroom. We can have dinner together."

Vincent started to decline. "I was just gonna go to a hotel."

Grimoire gave him a look. "You want the address or not?"

"Yes."

"Then listen to your old man. I haven't seen you in seven years. The least you can do is take the time to have a proper visit. Riley, can I offer you a drink? I have coffee, tea, orange juice. It's pretty hot out today."

"Juice is fine, thanks." He got up and left for the kitchen. Riley half-glared at Vincent from the corner of her eye, noting the defeated look on Vincent's face. "You're a terrible son, not visiting your dad."

Now he appeared guilty. "I was busy."

"Why didn't you warn me we were visiting your dad?"

"I..." he trailed off, the excuse was lost on him.

"Chicken," she accused, restraining a smile from surfacing.

"Shut up." She laughed instead. He got up then. "I'll get our things. I'll be back."

She nodded when he found the apartment keys before leaving. Grimoire came back with a small tray of drinks, placing it on the coffee table. "Where's Vincent?"

"Went to grab our things from the car."

"Ah. So tell me," he began, sitting down, "How long have you been...his hostage?"

"A couple of months."

"Ah, pretty much since he escaped." She nodded. "I have to ask, but...you said you weren't involved."

"We're not..." she said slowly.

"But you're interested," he declared. When she hesitated, he tilted his head. "I won't tell Vincent, but I can see from the way you interact with one another that you're close. However, you're both being cautious about it."

"You a shrink?"

He laughed. "No, but I know the signs. His mother and I were the same with each other. Vincent, from what he said of this Dr. Crescent, he had similar feelings for her, but...that tells me it was no more than infatuation. They interacted, but they hardly knew anything about one another. However, when he interacts with you... Tell me, how much do you trust each other?"

Riley watched him then her eyes veered off as she considered. "I trust him with my life. At first I didn't. I thought he was...well, I thought he'd make do on his threat to end me. Looking back, I realize he would never hurt me. This one time, he beat this guy up for harassing and pointing a gun at me. I never even saw him move when I was suddenly out of that guy's hold and his face was kissing the counter." She sighed. "To be honest, I'm surprised he told me any of his past."

"That's a sign he completely trusts you. Me, boy hardly tells me anything," he said, throwing his hands up in the air. "He's afraid of getting too close to you and then losing you over something he's into. It hurts more the closer you are. Riley, I should warn you before either of you decide to take a chance," he began, watching Riley stare at him anxiously, "He's going to leave you to protect you. Yes, you're already involved in his problems, but he'll want to lead that away from you, and doing so means leaving."

Her gaze dropped to the glass of juice in her hands. "I know. He'll somehow take his revenge on Hojo, and they might catch him and keep him in jail for the rest of his life." She swallowed. "But...I don't care about what he intends to do. Well, maybe a little, I mean, killing is wrong, but...he's right. Hojo needs to be stopped. It's his fault Vincent lives with the guilt of killing a bunch of families, all for the sake of tests and research. I can't do much for him, but I can keep his secrets and be there for him. I'll support him however I can."

Grimoire listened with admiration. He was about to say something until Vincent came in the door. Vincent seemed to sense the odd atmosphere, looking at the two of them. "What?"

Grimoire smiled. "Nothing." He stood up again. "What would you two like for dinner?"

* * *

><p>Vincent stood in the shower, letting the water run over him as he slipped into the pit of his thoughts. It was odd, he thought, being home again. Seeing his father had gone better than he expected. Though he once lived here with his father, it was short-lived when he decided to join the military, and they fought about it. Still, it didn't feel like home. Had he been gone so long, that he lost that feeling? Was he expecting to feel nostalgic? No, he decided, it was home, but it didn't feel as comfortable as living with Riley. It felt as though he was meant to be there, just as much as birds were meant to fly. Unless you're a flightless bird.<p>

He turned off the taps, drying off before getting dressed. Going into the spare bedroom, or what used to be his room, he caught Riley staring at clothes she arranged neatly on the bed. They were formal, and he instantly knew what they were for.

"Did you want to go today?"

She shook her head. "Tomorrow's fine. Maybe it'll be cooler tomorrow too, and the flowers will last more than an hour. My dad won't be in New York till tomorrow either."

He nodded then blinked. "Wait, you're father's coming?"

"Was that wrong?"

He hesitated then shook his head. "No. How are you meeting him?"

"At the cemetery. You can meet him then."

"Meet...him?" Why did he feel like panicking? Sure, he could probably take the guy in a fight, but the thought of meeting Riley's father was just...awkward.

She stared at him then smiled. "Scared?"

He cleared his throat, before trying to make his voice sound gruff. "Very."

She laughed then coaxed him to come closer with her index. "Come here." Funnily enough, he obeyed, standing next to the bed as she raised herself on her knees, taking the towel from his hand before draping it over his head. "Your hair is soaked."

"A shower will do that," he said sarcastically.

"You're supposed to dry it after you're done, smartass. If it's still hot out and your hair is wet, it's going to feel uncomfortable." She began messing up his hair as she dried it with the towel.

"You mothering me?" he asked with amusement.

"No," she denied.

"Then why'd you call us family?" He dare not notice the way his voice softened.

Her movements slowed. "Because I meant it. For all I know, it could be Stockholm Syndrome and I need mental help—"

"Then don't refer to yourself as a hostage or prisoner anymore." She stopped and stared, but couldn't read his expression. "We're way past that."

They didn't stop staring at one another. Neither dared to blink. Riley's heart seemed to beat more quickly in contrast to Vincent's own slow beats. Slowly, he removed the towel from his head, hair falling in front of his face in a complete mess she caused. Before she could say anything, there was a small knock at the door.

"Riley, you in there?" Grimoire called out.

Riley swallowed hard before moving away from Vincent to answer the door. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to show you something before I forget."

"Sure."

Before she left the room, she chanced a look at Vincent. He was still standing there, but he was staring at the window from across the bed, towel over his shoulders. When she was gone, he released the breath he'd been holding, sitting on the edge of the mattress, burying his face in his hands. What the hell was wrong with him? His tongue was slipping before his brain could process what he was going to say.

* * *

><p>Now he stood at the front door, wearing a simple black suit and white shirt, the top couple of buttons undone. Grimoire joined him, wearing something similar but the suit was grey, and he wore a dark grey tie. They both stood there in silence while waiting for Riley to finish getting ready.<p>

"Hm, I wonder what could be taking her. Does she usually take this long?"

"She's probably wondering what to wear. We weren't expecting to go to a formal restaurant. She probably didn't bring anything appropriate."

Grimoire chuckled. "I doubt she's worrying about that."

His brow arched. "What'd you want to show her anyway?"

"Oh, nothing you'd be interested in."

Now his eyes narrowed. "You became friends fast."

"Probably 'cause you're a handful, son."

"...What did you show her?"

"Nothing."

"Bull."

"Don't worry about it."

"Too late. I'm worried."

"Christ, Vincent, you're acting like I showed her you're baby pictures or something!"

And again, that feeling of panic. "Did you?"

His father couldn't resist the laughter. "God, no! I think you've been spared that fate. It's a mother's job to do that."

"What about baby pictures?" Riley cut in.

"Nothing!" Vincent said suddenly, but when he turned to look at her, his breath stopped short.

The dress she wore was simple, but on her, it was no exceptional. It was a black halter-styled cocktail dress. The skirt was a handkerchief design, reaching just mid-calve. Instead of her hair tied up, which was her usual practise, she allowed it down, but it was waved on the ends slightly, her bangs clipped to one side with a silver barrette. To match the dress, she wore silver sandals with three inch heels. Vincent swallowed hard, then stared accusingly at Grimoire.

He grinned. "What?"

"Nothing. Let's go."

* * *

><p>The restaurant was busy, but it was nice and quiet. They dined outside since it was warm enough to do so. Sadly, Riley was mildly disappointed Vincent said nothing about her appearance. Okay, she was a <em>whole lot<em> of disappointed. Getting dressed wasn't the hard part, it was the hair she had trouble with, and she did it because part of her wanted to impress Vincent and say, _'Look at me! I can dress like a girl after all!'_ All he did was stare for a second then glare at his father. In fact, Vincent hadn't stared at her at all since the first time. Hell, she didn't bother with makeup because she didn't bring any. Could she feel any more unprepared?

She just sat and ate while half-listening to father and son chat. The disappointment had her thinking that she just wanted to go home after visiting her mother's grave...and possibly have Vincent chasing after the car just to punish him. Christ, what the hell was wrong with her? Was she starting to think like a girl due to the dress? She wasn't even sure if she was in love with the guy. Perhaps it was just Stockholm Syndrome. Yes, that had to be it.

She cleared her throat then, interrupting their conversation when she finished her plate—why did they always make too much food at restaurants—announcing, "I'll be back, just gotta go to the ladies' room."

When she was gone, Grimoire smacked Vincent upside the head. "Boy, what's wrong with you?"

Vincent blinked in surprise, rubbing the spot he'd been hit. "What are you talking about? Why'd you hit me?"

"You know the exact reason I hit you. Are you so oblivious?"

Vincent sighed. "To what?"

Grimoire shook his head. "Vincent, did it ever occur to you that she likely dressed up for you?"

"The idea fluttered across my ever-running thought process. What of it?"

"I see, you're pretending not to notice." The professor eyed him. "Is it affecting you that much?"

Vincent grabbed his glass of wine, muttering before his mouth touched the glass, "That and more."

"Is it so wrong to notice? I can tell she's upset because her efforts haven't been acknowledged."

"Christ, she's not a child who needs to be patted on the head."

"She _is_ a woman though."

And so the guilt set in. "I know what you're doing. You're trying to speed up the process just so you can be a grandfather."

His father laughed. "It'd be nice, but no. Vincent, is it so wrong to admit you're happy when around her?"

"Happy is too strong a word."

"But you don't deny you have feelings for her." Vincent said nothing. "Christ, ask her to dance when she comes back."

"What?" Dance? The word alone was foreign to him.

"Here she comes. And compliment on her appearance."

"Stop giving me advice!" Vincent demanded while his father only grinned and Riley took her seat again. The silence returned, but he felt his father just stare at him without mercy. Finally, Vincent dared to look at Riley, clearing his throat. "Riley?"

"What?" she asked, staring at him.

He could have sworn a frog caught in his throat when he started to speak, "Dance?"

Her face showed confusion. "What?"

He cleared his throat again. "Would you like to dance?"

The expression was unreadable and he was certain then that she would reject him harshly. "Okay," came the unexpected response.

He blinked twice, as if his brain needed time to process her response correctly. Swallowing, he stood up, offering his hand. Grimoire only watched them with amusement, sipping his own wine while she took his hand and they went to the dance floor. Awkwardly, they stood there for a full ten seconds without making a move. Finally, he reached out, placing his hand on her waist then taking her hand with the other, her opposite hand resting on his arm. As they became more comfortable with the situation, they began to sway back and forth, making the slow clockwise turn, their movements more relaxed and graceful.

They didn't speak for the longest time, only continued to dance. Remembering his father's advice, he said, "I'm sorry."

For some reason she couldn't fathom, the apology actually pissed her off, but replied pleasantly, "For what?"

"For not taking notice." He finally looked at her, _really_ looked at her. "I did notice, I was just afraid of what I'd do if I kept looking."

Her heart gave a small flutter at that, and was even more surprised that she wasn't upset anymore, smiling softly. "I guess I'll forgive you, but I have to wonder what you mean by that."

"By what?"

"The _'what you'd do if you kept looking'_ part."

"Right..." Why was it getting harder to swallow? "You look...nice."

That was it? Well, she couldn't blame him. She felt just as foreign to this as he did. "That must hurt to say," she joked.

"Not really, but I do have a reputation to uphold. If Cid or Barret ever found out what I was doing in New York, I'd never hear the end of it from them, especially Cid."

A laugh bubbled out. "I suppose you're right. Maybe I'll use this as blackmail just so you'd become my slave for eternity."

"Ha-ha. Don't push your luck. Why'd you dress up anyway?"

"I...I felt like it. Do I pass?"

He smiled. "A B plus at best." When she pouted, he chuckled. "Okay, I can negotiate with an A minus."

"What would get me an A plus?"

"Nothing." He actually grinned when she figured it out then scowled at him.

"Pervert."

"Alright, then tell me what a man would have to do to get an A plus in your book?"

It scared him that she actually thought about it. "It depends on the guy."

"Then judge me."

Her face softened. "Shirtless, loose leather pants, and with long hair."

He arched his brow. "I thought leather pants didn't appeal to you."

Blue eyes veered away in shame. "The leather pants popped into my head when you mentioned it, then it stayed."

"You fantasizing about me now?" he asked, giving her a knowing look of amusement.

"N-no," she stammered, now flustered.

He surprised her when he took his hand from her waist and placed it on her cheek as he looked in her eyes. "You're a terrible liar," he said softly. Her mouth went dry with anticipation.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** BUWAHAHAHA! And so I end the chapter right here! Chapter was getting long, and I thought...PERFECT SPOT. Such a lovey dovey chapter. Next one is going to get a bit more exciting. Been playing Soul Calibur 3 the last couple of days. Anybody play that? Was playing Chronicles of the Sword more specifically, but some of those chapters...I wish they had options to shut off certain features like Fort Missions. It's annoying when I'm fighting, and I slid right out the ring because the floor is slippery and by the tie I get back to the thing, the fighter inside is already fully healed. FRUSTRATED! Back on topic, I made Grimoire alive, because hey, the idea of Vincent getting teased and embarrassed by his father was too good of an opportunity to pass up, that and he strikes me awesome. Anyway, nothing more to say other than, please R&R, you're support is always appreciated.


	10. CH10 Complicated Affairs

**House Arrest**

Disclaimer:

_ All Final Fantasy VII related characters and ideas are copyright to Square-Enix, and only them. Any other characters are copyright to the author._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ten – Complicated Affairs<strong>

Those eyes, she thought, were going to be the death of her sanity. The way those dark red wine orbs just bore into her own icy blue pools, piercing her very soul. It took great strain to swallow past the lump that suddenly took residence in her throat. Though he didn't really say it verbatim, he thought her beautiful. Not once in her entire life had the simplicity of a man's gaze make her heart quiver. Riley was deaf to the music and blind to the people around her. The only thing she could hear or see was Vincent Valentine. Though he was currently teasing her, his voice was soft, just as the thumb being brushed across her cheek was gentle. How did it come to this? Two months ago, she was ready to turn him in at the first chance. Now, picturing him gone was unthinkable. Though she had been denying it for awhile, she had to come to terms with the fact that she was more than interested in Vincent.

Vincent grew more anxious with her silence, and for the first time in years, he had no idea how to proceed. Uncertainty held him back, and Cid's warnings echoed in the back of his mind. Lucrecia was something like a fantasy, but this...it felt so right just simply grazing her skin. Neither of them had realized they both stopped swaying to the music, simply standing in the middle of the dance floor. For the longest time, they just stared at each other. The silence between them was sweet but maddening. He leaned forward slightly but stopped himself. Unable to go through with it, knowing the consequences, he backed off. He could see the disappointment she tried to hide, and the feeling was mutual. Despite that, in the end, he would leave her. God knew he wanted to stay, but if he truly cared, he would leave her in peace.

Clearing his throat, he said, "I...hope you'll forgive me."

The statement had thrown her off. One moment, he looked like he was going to kiss her but stops, and now he's asking for forgiveness? What brought this on? "What are you talking about?"

He hesitated, opening his mouth to speak, but the words seemed lost on him. Regardless, Riley had a vague idea what he meant, recalling her conversation with Grimoire earlier, though she couldn't be certain that was the reason. Vincent just rubbed his hands down her arms, Riley barely catching the glimmer of sadness on his visage before it went neutral.

"Your skin is getting cold," he said softly, removing his blazer, tossing it over her shoulders. "Can't have you catching a cold." A cold was the least of Riley's concerns.

* * *

><p>Getting back to Grimoire's apartment, Vincent turned to Riley in the hallway. "I'll take the couch."<p>

Grimoire feigned interest in their exchange while Riley didn't even speak or protest. She turned to Grimoire with a forced smile. "Goodnight, Grimoire."

"Goodnight, dear. Sleep well."

Once she went into Vincent's old room, shutting the door with a barely audible click, Grimoire turned to Vincent with that knowing look. His son merely scoffed, "Don't give me that look."

"I'm already giving you the look, boy. What happened? And don't tell me you panicked."

Vincent glared for a few seconds before walking towards the living room, waving off his father. "You wouldn't understand."

"Wouldn't understand?! Vincent, this is the exact same response you gave me all those years ago when you decided to join the ranks."

Trying to ignore him, Vincent lied on the couch. Seeing that his father wouldn't relent, he said, "I tried to give you a reason, but you never listened. I doubt you would listen now."

"A lot of time has passed...try me."

Grimoire sat in his leather chair and waited patiently for a whole five minutes while Vincent merely lied there trying to ignore him. It didn't work. "It no longer applies."

"Fine, then explain why your would-be girlfriend is upset."

"It's complicated. She started out as a hostage, now we're friends, and if we keep getting along, we may end up doing something we'll both regret later."

His father scoffed. "You really are a fool." Vincent turned his gaze to him. "If you don't do something that shows her how much you care and something happens to her, you'll regret that even more." Vincent went to say something but his father merely cut in. "You're afraid of your own feelings because you've experienced loss before and don't wish to feel that heartache again. So you shut yourself off from something you clearly want. You're going to have to man-up, son, because that's life. Life is pain and happiness. You're just going to have to accept that fact."

His son sighed, rubbing his face in frustration. "What would you have me do? Tell her how I feel only to leave her later, breaking her heart in the process? Is that what you want? I don't think even I'm so cruel as to do that!"

"It's better than her believing that you never loved her at all."

Shot through the heart from the statement, Vincent stared wide-eyed and closemouthed. "Jesus..." He sat up then, resting his face in his hands. How could he have been so blind? Even if he left...at least she would know. Would she wait for him? It was clear how they both felt about one another.

Grimoire watched as Vincent got up. Though he knew the answer already, he asked, "Where are you going?"

"Where do you think?" Vincent sniped.

Grimoire smirked. _Oh_, he was _so_good at pushing his son. Standing in the hallway, hesitation kept Vincent from knocking on his bedroom door. Finally going through with it, he waited after rapping gently. There was no answer for a long time and he was about to knock again before Riley answered. She was dressed in flannel pyjama bottoms and a simple tank top, hair down now.

"Vincent?" she asked in confusion. "What's wrong?"

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out for a long time. Clearing his throat, he started over. "Can I come in?"

Arching her brow, she stepped aside warily. As he walked in, she asked, "What's this about?"

He closed the door, finger tapping lightly on the door as if determined how to go about this. Slowly, he asked, "Where do you stand, in terms of...us?"

She blinked. "What?" He only stared at her. Riley returned his gaze before deciphering his true question. Feeling that nervousness in the pit of her stomach, she hesitantly said, "I...want you." There, she said it. God, why _did_she say that?! As if backing out, she sought to remedy her statement with by saying, "To stick around."

Before she could say it though, he was already on her, knocking the breath out of her when his mouth came upon hers, backing her into the dresser. The shock of it had made her panic for a moment, but the way he moved those lips over hers was more than enough to calm her. This was a god damn dream. It had to be. Hell of a good one though.

After another moment, he finally pulled away, staring hard into her eyes. "Now you know."

"Know what?" she asked, slightly dazed. "What I've been missing?"

He chuckled then sobered, running a hand down her cheek. "I haven't felt this way in a long time. Riley...you should know that once I've finished what I set out to do, I have to leave for your sake. One day they'll catch me and you may be branded of being an accomplice. I won't let that happen to you."

Riley swallowed hard, knowing he meant well. "I see."

"I just...wanted you to know this so you wouldn't think that I abandoned you to save my own skin."

She nodded. "I know." Suddenly she slapped him, shocking him. "That's for being a jerk and just in case!"

"Just in case for what?" he asked, bewildered.

"For when you leave," she replied softly. "I won't be able to hit you then."

He scoffed, rubbing the side of his face. "You're stronger than you appear. My face stings."

"Aw, muffin," she coddled sarcastically.

Soothingly, she grabbed his head and kissed his cheek. The gesture was so sweet that he stared at her meaningfully before going in for another kiss, taking his time to explore the taste of her lips. Riley stood almost rigid but relaxed, but the rigidness came back when he pushed her back further against the dresser, the edge digging into her spine. She yipped slightly in pain and Vincent backed off, whispering his apology. Arms wrapped around her back, he resumed the task of tasting her lips, his tongue begging for entrance, which she granted as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her mouth tasted of toothpaste while his still tasted of red wine.

Having a good idea of where this was going, without releasing her, one arm reached out, slapping at the wall, looking for the light switch. Eventually succeeding at turning off the light, he backed up towards the bed, releasing her mouth long enough to sit on the edge, pulling her along with him to have her emit a squeak of surprise and sitting on his lap. Eager mouths found one another as Riley's hands framed both sides of his face and one of his reached up to slide his fingers through her hair. The next thing she did made him pause in secret delight. Her own fingers ran through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp to the point it made him completely relaxed.

She giggled softly. "Sleepy?"

"Damn you, what's with those fingers of yours?"

"I've always been good at putting those under my touch straight to sleep."

"You're not getting out of this, woman."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she denied casually, then shrieked when he suddenly flipped her onto the bed beneath him. She blinked. "Well then."

Vincent reached up to brush aside a strand of hair. "I'm not usually this eager."

"You were in jail a few years. I get it."

He leaned down, kissing her again, this time more slowly as he slid a hand up her tank, feeling her skin that made his own tingle in excitement and anticipation. Before his hand could venture further though, her hand grabbed his wrist. Damn, they were going too fast too soon. He damn well knew this, but his recently reawakened hormones clouded his judgement. He raised his eyes to hers.

She looked uncertain, but her eyes had darkened from the growing heat. She could barely breathe out, "Isn't it weird for us to be doing this here?"

"It's a bedroom. Sex is a bedroom activity. Did I mention that it's my bedroom?"

"Exactly. I mean, your dad..."

He smiled. "Do you have any idea how many times my father has chided me this evening?" She shook her head. "I think he's determined to have you turned into his daughter-in-law." She gaped and he stopped her protests by kissing her again, whispering against her lips. "Besides, I won't give you the time to feel embarrassed. Just shut up and let me make love to you."

His quiet demand actually sent flutters through her, her face heating up. Slowly, she released his wrist, and his hand slid to cup her breast, kissing her once more before his lips trailed along her jawline and down her neck, nipping at her skin so gently, that it was almost torture. Unable to take much more, or at least unwilling to, she began pushing off his blazer and undoing his shirt. It wasn't the first time she had seen his bare torso, but it never failed to marvel her how perfect he was. He tossed away both upper-wear before proceeding to slip his thumbs beneath the waistband of her PJ's, sliding them off her legs effortlessly, only to be surprised by a pair of black lace panties.

"Funny, you didn't strike me as a...lingerie-type," he commented casually.

"I can be girly," she declared, clearly embarrassed.

Instead of saying how well aware he was of that fact, he undid his belt, throwing it aside to join the others on the floor. His mouth devoured hers, overwhelming her sense of touch and taste. God, he smelled good, she thought while inhaling the scent that always made her feel secure. Him, just him. Hands ran up the side of her leg, over her hip, and under her shirt, teasing the breast beneath the fabric as his other hand grabbed her hair, pulling her head back gently so that he could drink in the scent and taste of her skin on her throat, nipping and kissing, his tiny scruff tickling her in a way that merely felt...amazing, she decided.

Before they went any further, Riley had a panicking thought. The tone she had stopped Vincent dead. "We don't have birth control."

That fact was enough to put Vincent in a panic of his own. Pregnancy was not something they could possibly deal with. Burying his face into the bed beside her head, he groaned in frustration. Sex was not on the menu tonight. Normally, a man with his personality and control would not be one to cry, but when you're anticipating sex, the frustration is too much. So close, yet so far. Desperate, he leapt to a nightstand, pulling out a drawer. Finding condoms, he checked the dates as Riley sat up.

The way he growled in disapproval bubbled a laugh out of Riley. God knew she understood his feelings. "Anything?"

"Expired," he muttered, teeth grinding. He went to the opposite table, finding nothing there. "Dammit. This isn't happening!"

Riley talked about his father hearing? Well, it's even worse to even consider asking him if he had any condoms. He doubt that his old man would have been able to provide anyway. He dropped his head in his hands, groaning once more. Riley slid up behind him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"Foreplay is still an option," she suggested.

"If I continue, I won't be able to stop at foreplay," he mumbled. Sighing, he turned to face her, just kissing her more tenderly this time. "Sorry."

She only smiled. "We'll live." He stroked her face, kissing her head before getting up. "Where are you going?"

"I need a cold shower. Get some sleep."

"Okay," she said softly as he grabbed a towel as he left the room.

* * *

><p>Showered, dressed and calm, Vincent took a peek into his room, checking on Riley, finding her fast asleep. He sat on the bed, watching her sleep for awhile, pondering what had nearly happened. Not wanting to be unprepared for next time, he quietly left the room, put on his shoes and jacket, and grabbed the apartment keys. As he stepped out of the building, he looked both ways, attempting to recall where the nearest convenience store was.<p>

It was a ten minute walk before he finally found one, stepping inside a 24-hour convenience. The middle-eastern clerk nodded his head politely in greeting, Vincent returning the gesture. Finding the condoms was a simple task, debating between the different kinds was another. Making his decision, he got a couple of other things, purchasing the items and leaving the store once more. It seemed too quiet, especially in New York. There were hardly any cars, and no students or pedestrians of any kind around.

Eyes narrowed, he went the opposite direction of the apartment. Something didn't feel right. He had this feeling of dread before. Unfortunately, he had left unarmed, his weapons at the apartment. The slightest sound made, and he knew. Sighing, he set aside the bag of items on the first bench he came across. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. Suddenly, he swung his leg back, knocking back what looked like some stealth agent in fitting gear equipped with silenced pistols and daggers.

"I was wondering when Hojo would find me."

Grabbing the agent's head, he pulled then hit it against the brick wall, snatching the pistol as they fell. When he turned around, he saw about twenty more, rifles raised, laser precision pointing at him. Sighing, he shook his head. Before he could initiate his counter-attack, his eyes landed on who was possibly the team leader. Clad in the black stealth suit, military boots, and a long black duster jacket, the white-haired man, currently in a single braid, walked forward. Their eyes locked, and Vincent's sense of dread worsened.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **And that's the tenth chapter. For those who are unaware, I've written a first chapter for the Little Red Riding Hood category, so please take a chance to look at that. It'll explain my absence and other important stuff. Now, I'm sure some of you were expecting me to keep you hanging, and in a way, you guessed right since Vincent and Riley were unable to convict such a naughty crime. **MUWAHAHA** Anyway, I admit, I was blushing throughout writing the scene and was even debating leaving it out, but considering this story is planned to be less than twenty chapters, I decided to leave it in there. Next story update will be for Rhapsody of Chaos, and I warn you all...it'll be an extremely sad chapter. I'm ashamed that I'm even going to go through with it. (I have to reread the whole thing though **nooo**)

I appreciate any reviews, and thank you for reading.


	11. NOTE to READERS

April 6, 2014.

Dear Faithful Readers,

WARNING: Long Read.

I apologize for not posting any new chapters in ages. But since I'm still getting reviews despite how long it's been, I guess it's only fair that I explain why I haven't posted anything.

Long story short, I haven't been in the mood, and naturally, life gets in the way...a lot. For the last year and a half, I've gone through so much stress and I get tired, depressed, and lazy. As some of you know, my previous laptop died, so I usually got on my mom's laptop (which was rare because she's always on it), and my time on it was short. Finally got a new laptop from my job at a grocery store. I suffered a couple of heartbreaks. The first was that our sweet ferret, Stimpy, died and I was distraught for awhile. Speaking of which, it's been almost a year this month since he's passed on. But anyway, the next heartbreak was when I was fired from said job, which was weird because it was first time I've ever been fired. So I was depressed about that, but it's not the heartbreak I'm talking about. The heartbreak is what it caused me to do, because I had rent to worry about. My last pay got me one month, but I had to worry about the next month, and I made the absolute sacrifice to sell my Playstation 3, and ALL my games, including PS1 (only being Final Fantasy VII T_T), my PS2 games, and my PS3 games. I've been somewhat poor my whole life, so you can imagine how hard it was for me to gain the collection I had, despite how small it was compared to some gamers. Certain luxuries are difficult to obtain, and video games has been part of my life since birth.

So, yeah, life and all that shit. Next came the stress of trying to find a job, which is difficult because I don't qualify for a lot of jobs that require experience in certain fields, like retail. I refused to go back to a Subway restaurant (I don't need to build on that stress). Meanwhile, I met an ex boyfriend, which eventually led to us getting back together, but I broke up with him because I don't feel anything for him and didn't want to drag it out, but the point is that I spent a lot of time at his place. His little siblings also annoyed me. But during that relationship, I found another job as a worker at a Candy Factory (I deal with Maynard's candy). Now, THIS JOB takes up a LOT of my time, and it leaves me exhausted all the time because the shifts are 12 hours each and it alternates between day and night shifts. So, naturally, when I get home, I just want to sleep. And when I do have days off, I just want to relax. Plus, a good deal of my spare time is taken up with errands, like groceries and picking up prescriptions for my mom because she can hardly move. Also, I get tired just looking at my apartment because it's a mess (neither of us are domestic and we hate housework). However, I'm starting to get the writing groove back, and even my drawing groove. So hopefully I will be doing both again.

For those of you who don't know, I have about 4 stories ongoing simultaneously. The first being Final Fantasy VII: Rhapsody of Chaos. This is the oldest one and I haven't posted for it for a few years. Recently I reread it, and I remade notes, and made new ones, including possible synopsis for the next forty or so chapters (I plan on making it 70 or 77 for allusion's sake). So, I may get started on that again in the next couple of months. Key Word: MAY (not the month). As for House Arrest, which is a FFVII AU piece, it's on permanent hiatus. It's not a story I'm proud of because it lacks any effort. It's a boredom piece, basically. However, if and when I finish Rhapsody and Erebus, I may work on it a little from time to time as a break from writing Arda Chronicles. Just fair warning.

The next story is the first book of The Arda Chronicles: Red Riding Hood. I haven't thought about it in awhile, so right now it's not on my mind, but again, there are some notes made for it, but the details are vague and I'll have to get around to finetuning the plot, but for now it's not a priority. I kind of want to save it for last (unless I get in the mood to write for it), mainly because it's part of a bigger series of books I want to write, which again needs a great deal of planning and finetuning. Also, I MAY revamp the story, because I don't feel satisfied with what I've written so far.

Finally, there's Hellsing EREBUS. I have SO MUCH PLANNED FOR IT, but I just haven't written anything for it. Honestly I'm a little more prideful of this one because I've actually been doing SOME small research for the plot to make it interesting and I made important notes of serious plotpoints. I'm trying to maintain the same feeling of epicness Hellsing always exudes, and it's actually a very challenging story for me to write to keep certain characters in character.

Anyway, there it is, and I hope it explains a lot. Sorry for the long note. Hopefully it won't be much longer until I can start writing regularly again. One day I'll get my life back on track. I already bought a new ps3 (with a bigger Hard Drive). Anyway, thanks for understanding.

Amanda Bloodhart


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